Defining Moments
by twistedsister80
Summary: A Charles and Molly story based on the last episode, what if Molly did not call Charles about a chest of drawers.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating – If you can watch the show then you should be okay**

**This is Molly Dawes and Charles James story with brief mentions of other characters.**

**Huge thanks to Debbie for inspiring and pushing me into writing this new story and for all her help in making the chapters readable!**

**This is a short story and there will be six chapters all of which will be posted over the Christmas/New Year period. It is very different to anything I have written before so please be gentle. A good part of the story is mainly from Charles point of view. This first chapter is based during and after the last episode of the Bangladesh tour.**

**During that last episode – what if Molly did not ring Charles about a chest of drawers, what if it was something else? **

**Defining Moments**

_We make decisions every day. Do I have cereal or toast for breakfast?_

_Do I wear the white shirt or the black one?_

_Do I go out after work or stay in and relax?_

_Do I say yes, or do I say no?_

_Some decisions can be made in a split second, others can take weeks or months to decide_

_A decision, even a split second one can change your live forever._

_The question is, can you live with it?_

The decision to put their marriage out of its misery had been a long and difficult one for both of them. They had discussed it several times, back home in Bath and now again via phone as they were both stationed overseas but once the decision had been made, along came the mix of emotions, grief, sadness, resentment, relief, to name but a few.

**Captain Charles James**

For him it was a bitter pill to swallow. A second failed marriage. Those people who had doubted his relationship with Molly and questioned their marriage would be very happy about now and would gloat in the fact of telling him "I told you so." Christ he could almost see the smug expression on Rebecca's face. His parents would be devasted, they adored Molly, and judging by the recent letters and emails they were firmly taking her side in the split.

Sam, his beautiful, smart and athletic son, he adored Molly. They were like two peas in pod with Molly being the fun and supercool step-mum. More often than not it was Molly who picked him up from school and took him to his numerous after school clubs as Rebecca would be working and he would be on another tour overseas. He was jealous of the fact that his own son loved Molly more than he did him.

His relationship with his son was another one that was on the edge. Sam wanted to spend more time with Molly than he did with his father.

As annoying as it all was, it did not matter. As much he loved and cared for them, only one person in his world mattered to him at the moment. Getting her to like him, trust him, to love him was his only priority.

As his phone rang with his wife's name flashing across the screen he did not answer with the usual smile or the thought that her voice would be the most important sound he heard that day. The voice that would normally soothe and relax him no matter how difficult a day he had faced.

This time he wanted to avoid the call. But that would only have been delaying the inevitable. He had decided, for both their sakes that their marriage was over. It was the only way to save both of them from the wreck he had become. He knew he wasn't himself; he knew he wasn't the man she married. He knew he would hurt her even more than he already had, so for that reason alone he needed to end things with her. In his own jumbled head, it, all made sense. The sooner they had this discussion the sooner they could both separate and move on.

Hanging up, he sighed, ran his hand through his hair and he replayed the conversation. They agreed to separate. He knew what was coming lawyers, divorce courts arguments over everything. He had been there before, and he was going there again but for some reason he didn't care. Molly could have whatever she wanted as long as she was away from him and left him in peace.

Yes, there was some degree of sadness, the marriage was over but thankfully this time there were no children to consider. But that did not stop him from feeling relief. No more fights and arguments. No more phone calls from Molly, no more interruptions. No more worrying about keeping her safe. Relief that he could now think about her without any guilt, he could protect her the way Elvis would have wanted.

He flashed back to the moment that had changed his world. His best friend lay dead in front of him and he promised that he would take care of her for him. She had a habit of getting into dangerous situations and needed someone to look out for her. He could now do exactly that guilt free.

He was now free to face his feelings and care for Corporal Georgie Lane.

OGOGOGOG

She rang again the next day. He had been driving when his mobile rang, and he saw her name flash across the screen. Christ could she not take the hint, the marriage was over. Why was she calling him when he had more important things to worry about? He was getting to the woman he was supposed to protect and not answering bloody phone calls from his soon to be ex-wife.

He sighed as he answered the phone.

"_Yeah, all good. I'm at work."_

She muttered something that he could not understand and in all honesty he did not even want to know what she was talking about.

"_Yeah no if you think you need to take the chest of drawers then take them, take whatever you need, ok bye,"_

He ended the call and sighed, glanced the rear-view mirror again. The conversation forgotten as he focused back on how to look after her again. How could he keep Lane safe like he had promised Elvis he would?

Lane was his priority now not Molly. Lane needed him, Molly didn't she had more strength than both him and Lane put together. The sooner Molly realised that the better.

OGOGOGOG

This was the night he had been thinking about for months, maybe even longer. Lane was in his arms and in his bed. She had finally given in to her feelings and he was delighted. He would not make the mistake to wait out again. Life was far too short.

So why was he now feeling hollow, empty almost dirty. Why did he feel he scratched an itch rather than made love to the woman of his dreams? Why did he call out Molly's name and why did she call out Elvis' name? They told each other that they had to honest with each other and to reassure each other convinced themselves that the sex would get better once they got used to each other. He kissed her shoulder; it would all get better in time.

But why did he feel like shit and disgusted with himself?

OGOGOGOG

The water hit him like a brick. He was cold, colder than he had ever been in his life and everything was flashing through his mind.

They were being chased, hounded, had nowhere else to go. Lane had the idea of jumping off the cliff and he believed her in that it was their only option to survive. He gave the order to jump and when he did, he saw her beautiful happy smiling face. He saw Molly, his Molly except she wasn't his anymore, he had thrown away the right to think of her like that, and it hurt more than it ever thought possible.

The cold water had woken him up – what the hell had he just done? Everything was jumbled and confused to the point he no longer knew what was real and what was a hallucination. He closed his eyes as help arrived and prayed for forgiveness.

**Corporal Molly Dawes-James MC**

She had always felt never quite good enough for him. He had told her repeatedly how much he loved her and how he wanted her to be brilliant. Every day there was always some cheesy, corny romantic text from him, whether they were both in the UK working or stationed overseas on tour. Even at their happiest moments – their wedding day, honeymoon or the dirty weekend they had in Brighton just before he went to Nepal, it was always there. That little niggling doubt that told her to enjoy this before the bubble would burst.

Nepal was the game changer.

He had understood why he was going to Nepal to help with the humanitarian effort but was pissed with his superiors because he couldn't take Molly with them. He always maintained that she was the best medic, in fact the only serving army medic with a military cross but despite this and her previous experience of similar missions they were still not allowed to work together. They had said their goodbyes and made the promises of videos call when possible. It would be easier this time as she would be remaining in the UK training new medics.

What no-one expected was a burst appendix. She had been feeling rough all day and shortly after she had arrived at Charles' parents' house she collapsed and was rushed to hospital. Charles mother had called him from the back of the ambulance and then again both before and after Molly had gone into surgery.

Charles had tried in vain to be allowed home to see Molly and help her recuperate but there was no one else available to take over from him. His frustration with rules and regulations was now in full force and added to his questions as to why they were even in Nepal.

Only a few hours out of surgery and she was already on a video call to Charles reassuring him that she was okay and would in no doubt be the best care of his parents until his return.

If she had known then what she knew now she would have begged on her hands and knees for the General to let him come home.

He had told no-one in two section what had happened to her, and when she told Fingers a short time later when two section had visited Bath, he had made some comment to her about the boss acting strangely for a few days and she had smiled. Not in happiness but that was typical of her husband always worrying about her and his obsession in keeping her safe. It had led to many arguments which then led to some very hot make up sex.

There are moments in life that you never forget and that night when he called her to say that Elvis had been killed was one of them. He was in pieces and could barely speak; she knew then that their lives were about to change.

He barely touched or talked to her. PTSD had set in worse than it had after his injuries in Afghanistan. No matter what she said, or did it was wrong. The medic in her and the wife in her were constantly at odds with each other, not that anything worked. There were a few good days, but they never lasted. He would tell her how he was tired of the army and their regulations but would then go and sign up for more tours which would lead to more arguments.

After the incident in Belize she thought it might wake him up and get some sense into him, but no he kept pushing on and on until he let it slip in a drugged haze in his hospital bed. He had to protect her. Not his wife, but Georgie Lane. He promised Elvis he would look after her and take care of her.

Molly got this; she really did. Elvis and Georgie were their friends and she needed their support. But there was looking after people and then there was obsessing over people and he was now clearly obsessed.

She had tried speaking to General Beck, to his doctors and even emailed Georgie directly begging them to get Charles the help he needed. No one listened. The hardest part of all this was seeing the man she loved consumed by guilt and anger and she could do nothing to stop it or help him.

It was when she had been personally head hunted for a medic position with Special Forces in Afghanistan that had kicked off probably the worst argument they had ever had. Like she always did, she came straight home and told him all about the position. He would usually smile with pride and happiness and give her tips, help her start preparing for it. Not this time. He had told her it would be too dangerous for her, that if something happened he would not be able to do anything to help her. Confused, Molly questioned him which was how the fight started. It was then she noticed his packed Bergen in the corner of the room. He had recovered enough from his leg injury to re-join two section in Bangladesh, Lane needed him and that was where he needed to be.

She felt likes the third wheel in their marriage. She was his wife, but she was the outsider. After watching him leave without even so much as a goodbye she drowned her sorrows with his most expensive bottle of scotch. Waking up the next morning with the hangover from hell she made the split-second decision to go to Afghan. Maybe being overseas and having something else to focus on might help her come up with some solution on how to save their marriage. That and Special Forces was not an assignment you turned down lightly.

She tried to contact Lane again but still received no reply. She kept calling him as soon as she arrived in Kabul and when he finally answered they talked. It was probably the most open and honest conversation they had in months and Molly admitted that she couldn't keep living like this. She loved him, but the man she had married had gone.

It was Charles who said they needed to put their marriage out of their misery, and she reacted on auto pilot by agreeing to end their marriage. She put the phone down and walked over to the table where her commanding officer was sitting; telling him she was ready for the operation.

The next few days where hell on earth. The mission had gone tits up and then their convoy was attacked. Her vehicle had been blown on its side, the driver and her boss who was in the passenger seat where both dead. Her leg was bleeding badly, and her ribs hurt. Everything was foggy and when she blinked she could see the Taliban starting to approach them. The American soldier beside her was groaning in pain, he was alive but only just.

She found her phone and unlocked it and dialled the number she knew by heart. The number that would always save her when she was in trouble.

She called her husband.

He picked up on the third ring and for what reason she could only describe as a force of habit asked him how he was.

"_yeah good, I'm working."_

"I'm in an accident… trapped in vehicle…" she muttered as silently prayed that he would listen to her for once,

"_yeah no if you think you need to take the chest of drawers then take them,"_ he wittered on completely oblivious as to what she was saying.

What the hell was he talking about? Was she hearing him right, she tried to speak his name but couldn't, nothing came out!

"_Take whatever you need."_

"Charles," she whispered as the tears started to fall. She heard gun fire getting closer to her.

"_Ok bye."_

He ended the call.

He hadn't heard one word she had said.

Or was she the one talking in riddles? Her head was foggy but surely she asked him to help and not went on about a chest of drawers…

In that moment as she saw the Taliban approach and surround the vehicle she knew. The Charles James that she knew and loved had gone. He wasn't coming to save her, no one was. He was with the woman he wanted to be with and was probably shagging her as she had called him begging for help.

She closed her eyes as the tears fell freely and let the pain take in her into darkness.

OGOGOGOGOG

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious for but when she finally opened her eyes all she could see was darkness. She was in a cell and the smell of death was everywhere. She saw a man lying in the corner of her cell. He smiled

"Molly, you're awake!" he was one of the American soldiers that joined them on the fatal operation, but she couldn't remember his name. "It's going to be okay; help is coming."

She tried to sit up but couldn't. She looked at her leg and blinked. It was a mangled mess with a large open and bleeding wound, she knew that if a rescue attempt was made she was as good as useless.

She was shivering as she tried to take in her surroundings but all she wanted to do was sleep. She could hear footsteps approach the cell along with keys dangling and several male voices.

The American started shouting and all she could make out was "leave her, take me, torture me."

She heard them hit him then they started on her, she could feel them all round her, pulling at her, kicking her, breathing on her, she tried to fight back but realised that she couldn't. For whatever reason she understand, she physically couldn't fight back. She opened her eyes and looked directly at the terrorist they should've been capturing but instead saw him smile as the other men gathered round her. She closed her eyes and prayed for death.

OGOGOGOGOG

**Charles James**

It was the bright light that woke him, and he groaned as he tried to move in the small hospital bed. He could make out two people standing by his bedside and being told to lie back down.

"Captain James, you gave us quite a scare," someone said to him.

He opened his eyes properly and saw a doctor writing something on his chart. He looked down towards the bottom of the bed and saw General Beck standing there. They both nodded their hellos.

"Where am I?" Charles whispered; his throat dry.

"In hospital, Birmingham," Beck replied.

Charles nodded as he wondered where Molly was and then remembered everything that had happened. He felt nauseous.

"Do you remember what happened Charles?" Beck asked him. They were old friends and Beck knew that he had to be the one to break the news to his friend.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I fucked up sir."

Beck nodded his head. "You lost control of your team, from what I hear it was the medic was giving the orders in Bangladesh."

"Are they all okay?"

"Thankfully yes, a shit load of bumps and bruises but they will all be okay in time."

"I did something unforgivable," Charles muttered as his mind started whirling again. Maybe Molly had been right all along. He did need help.

"I know all about you and Lane," Beck sighed "I suggest the next time you want to sleep with a soldier in your command you make sure there are no witnesses."

"Molly will never forgive me."

Beck looked to the floor before continuing "I cannot save you this time Charles. There will be a court martial. If you have any sense take the medical discharge route this time."

Charles nodded his head as he tried to sit up. He needed Molly he needed to speak to her, to apologise to her "I need to speak to Molly. I need to apologise to her, I… I need her"

"Charles," Beck said quietly as he came and sat down beside him on the bed.

"What is it? What did I do?"

"As you know Molly was in Afghan on tour."

That Charles knew, but he didn't know why. He knew Molly probably told him what the purpose of the tour was, but he was not interested, he was only interested in what Lane was doing and paid no attention to his wife in their few brief calls.

"There was an attack on her convoy, two Special Forces soldiers – one from the UK and one from the US where killed. The other two soldiers were captured."

Charles blood ran cold "What are you telling me Roger?"

"Molly and another US soldier were kidnapped, we believe she made a call for help from on her mobile before she was taken," Beck continued.

"To who?" Charles asked.

"To you."

"She didn't call me," Charles all but shouted "Jesus Christ Roger if she called me, I would've moved heaven and earth…." Charles stopped as he suddenly remembered that call.

"When did she call me?" he whispered.

Beck told him the date of Molly's attack and then confirmed today's date and the dates of everything that had happened in Bangladesh.

"She called me," Charles whispered as the tears started. "She called me… but I didn't listen to her," he sobbed "I wasn't listening to her, I never listened to her. In my head she was asking about furniture and I told her to take the chest of drawers…"

"Charles," Beck said as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and took a deep breath "Molly is missing, presumed dead."

OGOGOGOG

He had changed the locks and wouldn't let them in, unplugged the phone and let the battery die on his mobile. No one could reach him.

Sat on the floor of what had been their bedroom with his nose bleeding, but he didn't care. He had only gone out to get more whiskey, on his return to the house Fingers was waiting for him at the front door. He didn't say anything just one clean and forceful punch in the face. He didn't blame him.

It was on their wedding day that Fingers had approached him and told him that Molly was like a sister to him, and that if he did anything to hurt her, he would punch him, boss or not. Charles had agreed to it.

He rested his head against the wall and stared ahead of him. He hadn't showered since he discharged himself from hospital, he needed a shave and his hair was an unruly mess. He wasn't eating, the only thing he took was whiskey or vodka or whatever alcohol he could get his hands on.

This was all his fault; he had brought everything on himself. Caused the cracks in his marriage, had pushed her away, ignored her cries for him to get help, ended their marriage, and the final nail in the coffin of them had meaningless sex with someone else all while she had been injured and captured.

The image of her imprinted on his brain, lying somewhere bloody, beaten and bruised and it he had done it to her. If only he had actually listened to what she had said on the phone.

He could hear the shouting from outside, the voices of his parents, Belinda too. They all wanted to help him; but no-one could. He stared at the wall opposite him covered in black permanent marker. The area of Afghanistan she had been in and had been trying to think where her kidnappers were holding her. He blocked out the new images that appeared in his head.

Laying there, staring at the wall he couldn't even decipher his writing and drawings now. The sound of banging and crashing from outside was disturbing him. Covering his ears to block out the sounds and someone shouting at everyone to stay outside.

"I killed her, I killed her, I killed her," he kept muttering as General Roger Beck entered the room and looked around stunned at the scene in front of him, Charles cowering against the wall with his knees tucked up under his chin incoherently mumbling, scribbles and drawings on the walls, a smashed chest of drawers and clothes strewn everywhere. There were wooden splinters all over the floor and he made his way carefully to where Charles was sitting and muttering. He looked up at Beck and opened his hand.

"This is all I have of her," he whispered as he stared at Molly's rings. "I killed her, it's all I have of her."

General Beck closed his eyes and pulled out his phone and made a call as he watched Captain Charles James have a complete breakdown in front of his eyes.

**What do you think? Is Molly alive or dead? More coming very soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all I do not own the show. This story is a product of my imagination and I have no experience of anything mentioned in this chapter. Call it creative licence!**

**Thanks as always to Debbie for her help with this story and to everyone who has read and reviewed so far!**

**I just want to acknowledge a guest review I received – as it is a guest I cannot reply directly.**

"**I always find it odd when people blame Georgie for Charles having ptsd" At no point have I or will I blame Lane for Charles' condition or for his decisions regarding his marriage. He has done that himself. It would only be expected that Lane would also have PTSD after everything that happened – something that should be addressed in the new series. I cannot speak for other writers or fans of the show but PTSD is a condition that no one is to blame for but everyone interprets things differently and this should be respected.**

Chapter Two

Five years later.

It was his own private sanctuary. The place that helped to calm him, keep him sane. It held everything he currently needed and wanted. It was where he was most at peace.

Five years had passed since his mental breakdown and the road to here, had been both long and painful. He had tortured himself with guilt over everything that had happened to Molly, or rather what his imagination thought had happened to her.

Today was no different.

The dawn of a new day brought that drizzly damp rain that tended to hang around his land longer than it should. It had been a rare find at just the right time. He had finally battled his demons and was ready to start a new chapter in his life when he noticed the dilapidated old bungalow for sale complete with land and surrounded with trees providing him with his own private wood. His own sanctuary away from the madness of the rest of the world. He loved it the second he saw it and over the years had managed to turn the old dwelling into a traditional, warm and inviting house to live in. His only company was the golden retriever, Jack that he had rescued from an animal shelter and with whom he was now throwing a stick to. He leant on the porch wall dressed casually in dark jeans and plaid shirt, his hair was slightly longer than that of army regulations, the curl was still there along with a few strands of grey mixed in and watched his dog chase after it as he took a mouthful of the steaming hot coffee. His mind automatically going back to his dream or rather nightmare of the previous night.

The Taliban had Molly bound in rope as they tortured her.

In this one she was still alive. The ones where he had to identify her body where worse.

He still blamed himself, even though after five years he had no idea what had happened to her. He had checked his emails first thing and he got the same reply from his contact, no new information. It was as if Molly Dawes no longer existed.

He heard the noise seconds before Jack had started to bark, the crunching noise of gravel indicating a car had turned onto his driveway and soon enough he could make out the outline of headlights. He finished the last of coffee as he tried to think who it could be. It was mid-week, so it was not Rebecca dropping Sam off for his once a month visit and it definitely wasn't his parents as they were in Lake Garda.

He watched as the silver Audi pulled up in front of him and saw his old boss and friend step cautiously out of the car as Jack raced over to the stranger and started barking.

"Jack, down." He yelled as he walked down the few steps of the veranda and towards the car.

"Good guard dog you have there," General Roger Beck remarked, half in and half out of his car.

"Jack, come," Charles ordered as he watched the dog walk over beside him and patted his head. "This one is a friend Jack, one who happens to be scared of dogs."

"You would think after all this time I would be used to being around them," Beck muttered as he carefully approached Charles. "How long has it been?" he asked as the two men shook hands.

"Five years since my mental breakdown," Charles replied, "Four years since you drove me home from rehab and out of the army for good."

"What can I say, I am shit at staying in contact," Roger sighed.

"I think we both are, Sir."

"I am off duty Charles."

Charles nodded his head. "Not that I am not pleased to see you Roger, but what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you are," Roger smiled "We were all friends once and regardless of what you may be thinking, I have been meaning to contact you for ages, but between tours and endless bloody budget deadlines…"

Charles smiled, nodded his head "Why don't you come in and we can catch up."

"Thought you would never ask, bloody parched trying to find this place!" Roger laughed as he followed Charles into his house.

OGOGOG

Appearances can often be deceptive. From the outside it looked a plain and sparsely decorated house but when he stepped inside it was clear that Charles was making a home. A traditional country cottage sprang to mind.

The huge brick fireplace and log beams in the ceiling in the lounge.

"I have to admit I love what you done with the place," Roger smiled as he looked around. He paused when he saw the photo hanging over the fireplace of Charles and Molly on their wedding day. Photos of Sam littered the top of the mantelpiece.

"It doesn't look like much from the outside, but I wanted something cosy, comfortable…" Charles started. "I supposed I decorated this place the way I had planned to do for Molly. Our own little oasis," he sighed as he entered the kitchen which was equally impressive. "I plan on revamping the exterior walls and veranda next summer."

Charles nodded to the table and Beck sat down. "Tea, coffee, something stronger?"

"I thought you didn't drink anymore?" Beck asked arching his brow as he sat down.

"I don't, I keep a bottle of scotch at the back of the cupboard for when my parents stay over. Dad insists on having a nightcap otherwise he won't sleep."

"Glad the old fart hasn't changed then," Beck smiled.

"Still mithering on," Charles smiled. "I haven't had a drop of alcohol since that day, five years sober. I even have the badge to prove it."

"Good, I'm really pleased to hear that" Beck smiled genuinely happy for his friend. "And I will have a coffee if your making one."

They made small talk for the next minutes as the coffee maker brewed fresh strong French blend and as Charles sat down he asked the question he been dying to ask.

"What are really doing here Roger? Have you heard something I need to know?"

"I just wanted to check in and catch up with an old friend Charles. Something I should have done a long time ago."

Charles sighed as he sat down "How are Jenny and the kids?"

"All good," Roger smiled as he reached for his phone and showed him a recent photograph "The twins started grammar school a few weeks ago."

"Jesus."

"Tell me about it. Next thing I know there will be make up and boyfriends," Roger grimaced.

"Thank god I don't have a daughter," Charles smiled as he pictured the years his friend had in front of him.

"How is Sam?" Roger asked as he lifted his coffee.

"Good," Charles smiled the first genuine smile all day. "He is in grammar school now too. He stays here, one weekend a month."

"Rebecca finally granted you access. Last I heard she was refusing you any contact with him."

"It took some time, but we got there, for a while it had to be supervised but not anymore. I would love to see him more than I do but between school and sports timetables and my job one weekend a month it is," Charles sighed "We get on, Sam and I but I don't think he has ever really forgiven me for leaving Molly."

"They were a dangerous double act," Roger laughed "Remember that Halloween party the first year you were married? I don't know which one was worse!"

"Oh god," Charles laughed "Sam still has that photo, he carries it everywhere with him."

"And there was you in the early days worried that they wouldn't get on."

"I think Sam loves her more than me."

"Nonsense."

"He still asks about her, if I have heard anything about her," Charles said as he stared into his coffee.

"I am sorry I shouldn't have said anything," Beck said as he looked at his friend.

"No, don't be. I actually enjoy talking about her, at least I know that she existed and not just a figment of my imagination. That we were really in love for a short time at least."

"As much I had my reservations to begin with that was one thing I was definitely certain about, love. You both loved each other. Back then I stupidity believed love conquered everything and it would be all right in the end between you too. I was too busy looking at the people you were or rather you were," Beck said carefully "to think that anything was wrong with you and if something was annoying you then you would both have sorted it out eventually."

"You saw it too then, the start of it all?" Charles asked him.

"The PTSD?"

"Yeah."

"I…" Roger started as he chose his words carefully. "I could hear and feel your frustration when you couldn't return from Nepal when Molly was sick. You had every right to ask for compassionate leave there were just no bloody officers available to cover for you. I wasn't in charge of two section at the time anyway and I didn't want to stand on anybody toes by granting you leave."

"I get it, I do," Charles nodded "I would probably have done the same."

"It all started then didn't it?"

"Pretty much," Charles sighed "The why am I here question kept rearing in my head along with all the budget cuts and changes the MOD were trying to bring in and I found myself questioning everything and eventually everyone. Elvis was the tipping point."

Beck nodded his head as he encouraged Charles to continue.

"I saw my best friend die, Lane fell to pieces and did what I thought was the best thing, promise Elvis I would look after her. Only add that to everything else going in my head and I became infatuated with her in every way. Molly could see it and I wouldn't listen. Somehow in my head, I loved Molly that much that I needed to save her from me. Everything was falling down around me and soon she would be impacted too so I pulled away from her, never realising that I was doing the last thing I ever wanted to do to her."

"She emailed me constantly asking me to step in and help but I didn't. I stupidly thought that the team medic would have that under control; but she didn't. She was so consumed by PTSD herself it was a miracle she could still do the job in anyway at all."

"I was so fixated with the need to please her, to look after her and keep her safe that I let her get away with everything. I lost control of her, the team," Charles sighed as he stood up and poured himself another coffee.

"Charles you may not have realised this but every one of every rank in two section knew something was wrong with both of you, they just didn't know what, and no one did anything about it until it was too late."

Charles rubbed his eyes and nodded. "It was good of you to speak up for me at the court martial."

"Like I said we all needed to share the blame. A medical discharge had to be better than the Brig."

"Or rather a year in a mental asylum," Charles smirked "I know it wasn't, but it felt like that at times."

Charles came and sat back down again "Whatever happened to Lane anyway?" he frowned.

"You never heard?" Beck asked.

"The last time I saw Lane was in the hospital just after you told me about Molly, she tried to speak to me, but I wasn't remotely interested in anything she had to say, I told her to piss off," Charles sighed "Not my finest moment if I am being honest. I was the one doing the running and talking her into a relationship and then when I got what I thought I wanted I treated her like dirt. I think that was the start of my breakdown."

"I think she was trying to apologise for everything that happened, she had just heard about Molly," Beck replied "At least that was what she told me."

Charles quietly nodded his head.

"She got help too. I think her PTSD started after her kidnap in Kenya and then after Elvis," Roger explained "She left the army soon afterwards, apparently her new commanding officer didn't like her conduct and her history of disobeying orders and she decided to leave and go into nursing. She is settled back in Manchester and married to that doctor, Jamie, was it? The one she was once engaged too."

"I am pleased for her, at least someone got a happy ever after in the end."

"You could still…" Roger started to say as Charles interrupted him.

"That will never happen," he said vehemently "at least not until I know what happened to Molly. That is the final piece my recovery. Closure with Molly. Whether it be by her gravestone or through begging her to give me five minutes of her time. I need to apologise to her in whatever form it may be."

"I get it, I do," Beck said quietly.

"I will die trying to find her, dead or alive. I promised her parents that I would bring her back to them, one way or another."

Charles lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sometimes it helps if that is right way to put it, that I hadn't had sex with Lane when she made that last phone call. That at least I wasn't having the worst sex of my life as she lay injured and dying. At other times I am nearly sick to my stomach that if she had survived the attack on the convoy and had been kidnapped what were the bastards doing to her when I was with Lane and trying to convince myself that she was who I wanted to be with."

"Do you think Molly knew about you and Lane?"

"That we had sex?" Charles asked him as Beck nodded. "She knew I had feelings for her, but I didn't sleep with her until I ended things with Molly. Although I think Molly suspected that I had slept her long before I did."

"It's funny in therapy they talk about the five stages of grief," Charles continued. "for me it's like ten stages or rather the five stages times two. First time round with Elvis, the second Molly."

"That is an interesting way to think of it."

"With Elvis, it was anger first," Charles explained. "Anger that he had been so bloody careless, it was typical of him to jump into a situation without properly thinking it through and left everyone else to tidy up after him. Then came the denial. I had Lane sobbing on my shoulder, and I was waiting for the prick to come round the corner yelling surprise!"

"It wouldn't have been the first time he would have pulled something like that," Roger remarked.

"Sandhurst!" They both said at the same time and smirked at the memory before Charles continued.

"Bargaining came next on the flight home. It was the first time I was going to see Molly since she had been ill and then everything with Elvis, I didn't know how to react or act around her and in my head, I was replaying everything. If I had been focused on the job at hand in Nepal and not worrying about Molly I maybe would have noticed Azizi acting strangely, stopped his betrayal long before we did. I replayed the mission where Elvis was killed, I should have been with him, I should have had someone else up there with him. My mind was plagued with What if's."

"I think we are all guilty of that Charles," Roger sighed. "If I had stepped in when Molly first contacted me, maybe you would still have a career in the army, maybe Molly wouldn't have been on the operation in Afghan…"

Charles nodded in agreement. "Depression sets in and messes with your head. I think I only accepted the fact that Elvis was dead when I was in rehab, just as the second wave hit."

"Molly."

"Yeah, and that was the hardest one to deal with."

"And have you? Come to terms with what has happened to Molly?" Beck asked carefully.

"I believed I had killed her. All I wanted was to keep her safe; but I ended up hurting her in the worst possible way. Betrayed her trust everything. I may as well have the planted bomb and fired the shot," Charles explained. "It took months of therapy to get my head round the fact that what you and everyone else were telling me that she was missing, presumed dead. Maybe it wasn't my fault after all? But at the end of the day I ignored her call for help. I fucked up and I knew it. The anger, the rage that I had with myself… I drowned myself in alcohol to the point I can't even remember how you found me."

"It wasn't a pleasant site Charles, even now after all this time the image still haunts me."

"When I finally sobered up in rehab I kept begging God to take me. I was of no use to anyone. I was a disgrace to my parents; Sam didn't want to look at me. Everyone loved Molly. All I kept thinking was let her live and let me die. When I finally sobered up depression hit me again like a ton of bricks. My best friend was dead. The love of my life had literally disappeared, presumed dead, what purpose did I have anymore. I hurt everyone I loved. It was only when I finished rehab and changed therapists that I finally accepted what had happened. In some ways that is the only thing that is keeping me going."

"Talking is good for the soul or so they say," Roger remarked before carefully asking "Is that when you took the overdose?"

Charles silently nodded his head. "Yep. And I am not proud of myself for it. I couldn't see any other way out of the mess I was in. I had hurt and disgraced everyone. Without Molly and facing up to what may or may not have happened to her, I couldn't cope with the guilt. I took a few of the pills, then had an image of me standing at something, at gates I suppose, heaven one side hell the other," he explained "And then Molly appeared, hitting me over the head with something in attempt to knock some sense into me."

"Christ even I can picture that!" Roger smiled softly remembering how Molly could talk sense into anyone. "I take it that was when you woke up in the hospital and changed therapists?"

"Indeed," Charles sighed "My new therapist is not with the army and as such is not bound to them so when I explained to her in the simplest forms of everything that had happened she made me realise that regardless of whether I had been given compassionate leave when Molly had been ill or not wouldn't have changed a bloody thing. Azizi would still have betrayed us and Elvis would still have died."

Roger leaned back listening intently to every word Charles was saying.

"Even if I came home, talked to Molly and got the help I needed, I would still have gone to Afghan. I would most definitely never have slept with Lane and more importantly Molly would still have gone on her mission to Afghan. Regardless of where I had been in the world, Jesus even if I had been five minutes away from the attack, I would never have made it to her time. She would still be missing."

Roger quietly nodded in agreement. "Still hurts though."

"Absolutely."

"So, what are you doing with yourself now, I heard rumours of combat training journalists?"

Charles laughed "Private security company. One of the few friends I made in rehab had just came back from Syria and he told me about the company he was setting up. I ignored it at first but after three months sitting on my arse in Royal Crescent I contacted him. We set it up together and train journalists on how to work in dangerous and combat situations as well as providing private security for diplomats etc. The pay is twice what I earned in the army, more leave. Better support packages. Everyone knows what happened to me and me them. They are always on the lookout for Molly too everywhere I or the team go. Locals will talk to civilians more than they will to police and army."

"Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing. No sightings anywhere. It's like she literally she dropped off the face of the earth."

"Do you have a contact at the MOD?" Beck asked.

"Dickens, but he keeps telling me the same thing."

"In that case then nothing," Beck sighed.

"Yeah," Charles replied as he studied his friend. "How do you know Dickens?"

"It was him who came to me when it happened," Roger explained "He was going to tell you that Molly was missing but I thought it best that the news came from someone you knew."

Charles nodded quietly. "Cut the shit Roger, why are you really here?"

"I told you why."

Charles continued to stare at his old friend and boss. It was Beck who looked away first.

"I genuinely wanted to see how you were doing, to see how you were dealing with things."

"Why, what has happened? Dickens hasn't been answering any of my calls lately," Charles asked with an edge in his tone.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay before I pass on a message," Roger said as he grasped his hands together trying to find the right words for what he was about to say.

"If you are trying to get me back into the army you can forget it," Charles said as he stood up, lifted both their empty coffee mugs and placed them in the sink.

"No, I am not. But Dickens wanted me," Roger said clearing his throat "to give you an update. On Molly, to him he thinks it is best that the news comes from me."

"What news Roger?" Charles asked as he closed his eyes. A horrible feeling was forming in the pit of his stomach.

"Yesterday morning, an operation was launched on an old compound that the Taliban used to use just outside Kabul," Beck explained. "The place was empty but had obviously been left in a hurry. In one of the cells they found Molly's dog tags."

"And?" Charles asked, eyes closed and hands grasping the counter for support.

"Like I said the place was empty, but they did find a lot of," Beck paused for a moment to try and keep his composure. "A lot of old blood stains. On the floor, the walls, everywhere."

"Like a torture chamber?" Charles asked in a cold detached tone.

"That is what the evidence suggests."

"So, what you are trying to tell me is that Molly was there, at some stage and tortured?"

"What I am trying to tell you Charles, is that as far as the MOD is concerned Molly Dawes is dead. No one could've survived the loss of the amount of blood they found in that cell," Beck said quietly biting back the emotion from his voice "As next of kin they wanted you to be notified."

He watched as Charles closed his eyes, grasped on to and leant against the kitchen counter, pain washed across Charles face as he let the news sink in.

His Molly was dead.

She was never coming back to him.

He could never apologise to her for everything that he done and how badly he had treated her.

How was he going to tell Sam, his parents, her family?

"Charles, sit down," Roger said quietly

"Relax Roger, I'm not going to go crazy and smash another chest of drawers, tempting as it is," Charles said as he stood up and headed towards the sink to get a glass of water. As soon as the glass was in his hands he felt his legs buckle and the next he knew he was sitting on the floor head in his hands.

"Charles?" Roger asked he stood up and looked at him sobbing into his hands.

After a few minutes Charles took a deep breath and looked up "What do you mean as far the MOD is confirmed she is dead?"

"Okay, enough of the bullshit," Beck said as he watched Charles carefully stand up and come over to the table and chairs and sit down. "You're right. I have genuinely wanted to visit you for a long time, but I guess I was always scared of what awaited me, a repeat of your breakdown, I suppose. The MOD – Dickens contacted me yesterday and asked how you were, mentally and if you could handle the news."

Charles simply glared at him. "I knew the bastard was avoiding my calls."

"Dickens is excellent at that," Roger sighed. "Truthfully all I know is that the MOD declared Molly Dawes legally dead yesterday morning."

"I don't believe it."

"Neither do I."

"Roger please, for the love of God, what are you not telling me!" Charles all but shouted. "I can handle it. I need the closure of knowing what happened to her."

"I think we all do."

Charles ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, giving Roger a few moments to choose his words.

"Truthfully this is all I have been told. She is dead. They also gave me a contact number for someone that you can speak to. I have no idea who he is, but apparently he might be able to answer some of our questions."

"He?"

"I presume it must be the American soldier that survived the initial explosion, maybe he has remembered something?

"It has taken him five years to remember. Besides, the last I heard he was a raving lunatic locked in an asylum," Charles remarked

"I heard he was dead, now I have no idea what to believe."

"Do you think Molly is dead?" Charles asked him quietly.

"Do you?"

Charles shook his head. "No. It's funny how I have imagined this exact scenario, and even had nightmares of this moment and accepted it. But I can't. I have a feeling deep down inside my gut, that she is alive somewhere, and it is killing me that I can't get to her, to help her."

"I agree."

"You don't think I am crazy then?"

"No. I don't, there are far too many unanswered questions for my liking," Beck agreed.

"Exactly."

"Where did they find her, where was she been held all this time? This blood they found in the compound – how do they know it was Molly's? These were questions that I asked Dickens and he refused to answer them."

"What are you suggesting?" Charles asked carefully "The MOD is withholding information from us?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Personally, I am beginning to think that Molly is alive somewhere. Whether she is being held captive or in hiding I do not know. All I do know is that a very secret military operation was launched forty-eight hours ago against the Taliban in Afghanistan. I think the MOD are going after that terrorist warlord."

"But why tell us that Molly is dead when there is nothing to back that up?" Charles asked as his head swarmed with a million different thoughts and images. "That old dried blood could have belonged to anyone."

"They are putting two and two together and coming up with five. Nothing makes sense Charles and I have no answers for you," Beck replied, "Only my thoughts."

"Which are?"

"They have said that the Molly Dawes-James we know is dead. Maybe she is. But what if she has a new identity? What if Molly survived the attack and somehow escaped and she is in hiding? Far-fetched I know but it would explain why she has disappeared of the face of the earth.

Could it be possible? "She could either be alive and hiding in some hell hole or living somewhere with a new identity?" Charles asked carefully.

"All I am saying is that I find it a coincidence that they release this information about Molly at the same time they start an operation to find the man who either has her or killed her."

"Especially when there is no," Charles stopped nearly choking on his next words "no body to confirm if it is her or not."

Beck nodded his head. "My only advice is to contact this man, Alex Stone," he said as he handed Charles a piece of paper with a name and address on it.

"He is at the army base in Canada?" Charles frowned "If he was an American soldier what is he doing there?"

"The base is used by both UK and US soldiers for training exercises perhaps his current unit is stationed there."

"Perhaps," Charles muttered as he started at the piece of the paper and forming a plan. "I need to make a few phone calls, work mainly, but I fully intend to fly out there as soon as I can."

"Please let me know how you get on," Roger said as he stood up. "We all love her and miss her too."

Charles nodded his head; his mind was swirling – was Molly still alive? Was he finally going to get answers as to what happened to her? More pressing though, would he and how much could he tell her parents without getting their hopes up?

OGOGOGOGOG

Sleep did not come easy that night.

After Beck had left it gave Charles plenty of time to think and go over everything that happened five years ago just in case there was something he had forgotten. He had called his partner in work and explained the situation and he was now on emergency leave. His flight had been booked to Calgary along with car hire so he could drive to base in Canada.

Everything was planned he even had Jack booked into the kennels a few miles down the road. Everything was organised, all he needed was a good night's sleep for the day ahead.

After a lot of thinking he decided to call Belinda and make her aware that there was a possibility of some new information regarding Molly and he would tell her more when he arrived back in the UK. Despite the fractured relationship with the Dawes family he maintained contact and always kept them up to date. This time however he held back from telling them what the MOD had told him, he didn't want to break that type of news to them until he was one hundred certain himself.

He had tossed and turned most of the night, the first nightmare was him walking into the morgue and identifying her body.

The second nightmare had chilled him to the bone. It was from one of his favourite memories on their wedding day and she was glowing with happiness, her beautiful white satin gown was breath-taking on her with everyone commenting on how beautiful she looked. They were dancing and Sam was in between them hanging on to her dress, determined to be a part of the traditional first dance. Then something had happened, they were all separated, and he couldn't find them. He turned round and Molly was smiling, waving at him to come over and help her cut the wedding cake. They held hands as the cut through the cake together, smiling, happy. He lifted some of the cream and icing on tenderly placed it on her nose, much to her annoyance. He wiped it off and tasted it.

Only it didn't taste like cream. It was more metallic in taste. He looked down and it was blood not only on his finger but all over his hands. He looked up at Molly who was standing staring at him, blood pouring down her face and seeping through the white of her dress. She fell to the ground and the world was spinning. He continued to look at his hands, all he could see was Molly's blood on his hands.

He woke up then, covered in sweat with Jack staring at him from the corner of the bedroom.

"Just a bad dream, Jack. Go back to sleep," he muttered to the dog as he carefully got out of bed, walked down the stairs and opened the front door and breathed in the cool, damp fresh air.

He was not going to have a panic attack. He kept telling himself that several times, just as he been told to do in rehab.

Molly was not dead. He refused to believe what the MOD were telling him.

He stood and watched as the rain fell on the ground around his house, the sound of it hitting the roof and the earthy smell helped to soothe and calm him.

Thinking back to the nightmare, he said a silent prayer that he literally did not have Molly's blood on his hands.

**Is Molly alive or dead? **

**Thank you for reading, the next chapter will be posted over the weekend.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own the show, I just wish I did!**

**Thanks to Debbie for her help with this chapter.**

**Huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, they are greatly appreciated.**

**Again, this chapter is a product of my creative imagination!**

**Enjoy…**

Chapter 3

Charles briefly closed his eyes as he felt the plane start to descend into Calgary international airport. The flight had been long at just over nine hours and he would be glad to get off and stretch properly. The flight had been booked at the last minute and he took whatever seat was available – in this case a window seat beside a businessman visiting Calgary for some oil production meeting. The man was chatty, the last thing Charles wanted to do was make small talk and was grateful when the said man soon fell asleep after the meal service and he was still snoring away to himself.

He knew it was pointless trying to sleep on the flight. A thousand thoughts and images where whirling around inside his brain. All regarding Molly and this meeting with this Alex Stone bloke. The more he thought about it the more certain he was that this was the soldier who survived the rescue mission five years ago. Why he was only talking now he would probably never know or understand the real reason. As he told Roger he needed closure even if that meant having to deal with the fact that Molly was dead.

Before he had left London, he had contacted Roger again to make sure he had all the details that he needed. You couldn't really walk up unannounced to an army base – ex Captain or not. Beck had informed him that he too had contacted their liaison at the MOD – Dickens – and supposedly Mr Stone would be expecting him and all the staff at the base needed to know was when he was due to arrive.

He had booked the first flight he could get and was surprised to get on a non-stop flight to Calgary. Perhaps the start of autumn was not a popular time for tourists visiting the Rockies he briefly thought. The base, in what could only be described as a small hamlet was a good two to three-hour drive from the airport and if the flight landed on time, he would be arriving in Canada in the early evening. The last thing he wanted was to start driving in the dark no matter how badly he wanted to speak to this person. So, he had booked himself into one of the airport hotels for the next few nights and first thing tomorrow morning would start off on the long journey to Suffield.

He had managed to pass most of the flight catching up with work, going over emails and accounts. When that was completed he managed to look up ideas for redecorating or rather refurbishing the outside of his property. He needed to keep himself busy. The devil makes work for idle hands was his new motto. It was one his mother used to say to him as a child and he often wondered what it had meant. Until now. He had to be doing something, working, driving, walking, reading a book, watching something pathetic on television, anything that required concentration so that he couldn't think of Molly and the images that haunted him at night.

He opened his eyes again as he heard the man beside him start to waken. He glanced out the small window and it could see it was starting to get dark. He had just caught the sunset behind the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. He smiled; it was a beautiful image to remember. He had always wanted to see and visit Canada, especially where he was now, but there would be no time for that on this visit. The Suffield base was nowhere near the Rocky Mountains, in fact it was on the other side of the state of Alberta known as the prairies, all flat land there with no mountains in sight.

He rubbed his forehead as the plane landed and made its way to the gate. He just sat and watched as everyone jumped out of their seats, grabbing bags and cases in a rush to get off the plane. He wanted off too but really couldn't be bothered with all that pushing and shoving. Twenty minutes later he was off the aircraft and was following everyone else to go through security and down to baggage claim.

He had thought his holdall would have been big enough to carry on but apparently not. He didn't mind, he wasn't in a rush. He stood in the baggage claim and looked around him. At the baggage reclaim belt he noticed a display detailing the history of the Royal Canadian Mounties. A mannequin stood in the centre in full Mountie uniform. After a few minutes of reading he noticed the baggage belts all had some sort of display at them. One was detailing the history of Native American Indians in the area, another on black and grizzly bears.

He smiled, at least one airport had a pretty way of killing the boredom while waiting on your luggage.

Thirty minutes later and he was sitting in the hotel shuttle bus and making the short journey to his hotel. Only then did he realise how tired and hungry he was. Food, and sleep was his immediate plan.

He woke the next refreshed after a dreamless sleep. He had fell asleep the second his head had hit the pillow, or as Molly would say "as soon as the springs hit the floor". It was the first time in weeks he had no nightmares of Molly being tortured or reliving some of their happier moments. He felt human and as he sat to eat a full Canadian breakfast he wrote down all the questions he wanted to ask this soldier, all questions that he needed answered.

The hotel shuttle dropped him at the hire car depot back at the airport and after a short wait he was handed keys and a map to Suffield. The rental agent was surprised when he asked for directions apparently not many people drive to that side of Alberta at this time of the year. But then this wasn't a normal visit.

Within minutes he was sitting behind the wheel of his car and adjusted to the fact that he would be driving on the other side of the road. He took a deep breath as he started the ignition and followed the directions to leave the airport grounds.

Two hours into the journey he had stopped briefly for caffeine and to stretch his legs. It was a very bleak and barren area. Whomever had made the decision to set up an army training camp in this area had been a genius. The area was perfect, no big cities, just a few small hamlets along the way and even better hardly any traffic. The man at the rest stop had told him about the small town just outside the base was where most of the staff lived and how the regular flow of soldiers kept his business alive. Charles smiled his thanks and headed back to the car for the short drive towards the base.

The base was used during the summer by British forces for training exercises, while the Canadian forces used it for cold weather training; and he wondered how and why there would be an American soldier at the base. He would soon find out he thought as he pulled up to the gates of the barracks. For the briefest of moments, it was like driving up to any base in the UK.

An armed soldier approached the car and he rolled the window and smiled. He explained who he was and who he was here to see as he handed over several pieces of identification. Within a few moments the gates opened; and the soldier instructed him on where to go.

The base itself was huge, he found the medical facility and followed the directions for parking. The main entrance was close by, he was soon inside approaching the front desk where the clerk asked him who he was.

"Capyain James, I am here to meet with…" he started to explain but was interrupted by burly woman with curly hair.

"Sgt Stone?" she asked "The soldier on the gate already rang ahead and told us to expect you. If you could follow the signs to the garden, I will ask the Sgt to meet you there on the terrace."

"Thank you," Charles replied with a small smile. They were certainly efficient here he gave them that. As he followed the directions to the hospital gardens, he couldn't help but feel nervous, jittery and that was not him. Something was definitely off. As he walked into the gardens, he couldn't see anyone waiting so he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table closest to the door. The only way he could describe the feeling was that he felt as if everyone knew who he was and why he was here, but he had no idea of anything.

A sudden movement from inside the building caught his attention. Someone walking towards the exit that he just came out off. They weren't in rush, but they stopped suddenly at the door. Due to where he was sitting the glare from the sun and the actual door frame were obstructing his vision. Someone else was standing there too. There was something familiar about one of the people standing there, their posture but he shrugged it off.

For a spilt second he thought it was Molly. He put that thought down to a mix of desperation and jet lag. Molly did not have short blond hair he thought as he played with his wedding ring that he still wore on the third finger of his left hand.

Something niggled in the back of his head as he looked up again as the door opened and he watched as someone stepped outside. His heart stopped and he stopped breathing. There standing in front of him dressed casually in army fatigues was Molly.

She stood there, fidgeting with her watch strap, as she looked straight at him "Hello Charles."

OGOGOGOGOG

The day had started the same as every morning for Sergeant Alexandra Stone. The alarm screeched at 6am, she did her exercises before hitting the shower. Then came physio and then work. It was autumn so she was in the process of moving back into the barracks. The base was used during the summer by British forces, something Alex or her handler could not risk her running in to, so she worked in the small medical centre in the small town near the base. However, as soon as autumn arrived the Canadian forces came back for winter and cold weather training, so she came back here to live.

She may be known now as Alex Stone, but in a previous life she was once known as Molly Dawes-James MC.

The problem being Molly was a hunted woman. She had made a snap spilt second decision five years ago when her head really was not in the right place for making them and she had paid for it.

Her marriage was over and the man she loved was a shadow of his former shelf. She was so tired of all the fighting, arguing and pleading with him to get help. So, as she tried to recover from the hangover from hell she decided to do what he was constantly doing, she ran off to a warzone in an attempt to take her mind off the disaster of their marriage. She had only arrived in Afghanistan when Charles had decided to put their marriage out of its misery. She had agreed. Two minutes after ending the phone call, she was on a mission with special forces that would change her life forever.

She was in an explosion; two other soldiers were dead, and her leg was bleeding badly. She located her phone and had called him for help, what happened next made no sense to her in the years that followed. She lost consciousness after a conversation about a chest of drawers and she woke up in a small dirty stinking cell with another soldier, an American who tried to help her and reassure her that help was coming.

When she woke up in the hospital in Germany, she had a lot to take in and process. She saw one of the world's most wanted terrorists kill other prisoners, he ordered men to violently assault her; kick, punch her and attack her in the worst possible way as they executed the American soldier. Somehow, she was rescued by a team of Navy Seals who had resuscitated her and had flown her to the medical base in Kabul and then on to the Ramstein Army Base in Germany.

She woke up, with an American soldier on one side of her and someone from the MOD on the other.

As far as world was concerned she was missing in action, presumed dead but to her, she was alone in witness protection.

The American and the Brit had argued over where she should live and who would look after her. The Canadian base suited everyone. Her handler was American – Donovan Tate. He created her new identity and told how she had to live there from now on. She could trust no one and contacted no one.

She would never be able to talk to her parents again. She would never be able to talk to Charles again. The long-haired brunette with the cockney accent was gone forever.

She had become the posh blond with the pixie cut who worked as a physiotherapy assistant during the day while working on recognised qualifications at night. A daily routine of therapy, work and studying was the only way she could move on.

She missed them all, but not only was it the only way she could stay alive but the only way she could ensure they remained safe too. She couldn't risk anything happening to them, so she did as was told.

Until yesterday morning when Donovan turned up at her room at the crack of dawn with the news she had been dreaming off. The terrorist had been captured. He was dead and she identified him from the photograph Donovan showed her. All she had to do was wait now for official confirmation that the rest his cell were dead and this whole nightmare would be over.

Which was the start of another problem for Molly Dawes/Alex Stone.

Donovan knew everything about her relationship with Charles and how things had ended between them. Despite being her boss, they had become friends over the years, and they had made an agreement that if when the day came that she could return to her former life, he would notify the authorities in Britain who would inform Charles first.

Now she had to wait and see what would happen next. She was tired of waiting and wondering. She needed answers, maybe even closure if she were to have any type of a life or a future.

One thing she knew that she had to do today was to speak to Helen, her therapist. After the events of the last twenty-four hours she needed to talk to someone to try and get some kind of calm from everything running through her nut.

"How are you today Alex?" Helen asked her.

"Scared," she replied.

"Of what?"

Molly/Alex took a deep breath before continuing "I know that they have told him," she said quietly. "Charles, I mean. I have wanted this for so long and now it's here…"

Helen smiled softly as Molly/Alex continued.

"If he got help. If he is the Charles I married then, he is coming, wild horses wouldn't keep him away," she smiled "Every time I hear a door opening, I keep thinking and hoping it's him. I worked out the time zones and everything and if he is coming here, then he is due anytime."

"And if he didn't get help?" Helen asked.

"He won't come, in fact he could barely give a toss about me then, why start now?"

"Does your handler know anything about what Charles is doing now? I mean he could have received help but could be on tour somewhere?" Helen asked carefully

"All he knew was that Charles had left the army and worked in private security, or something like that."

"What is it that scares you Alex?"

"Everything," Molly/Alex whispered. "Whether he got help or not, what if he hates me and will never forgive me for leaving him, for making everyone think that I was dead."

"That decision was out of your hands."

"I know that, but he might not," Molly bit back. "He might not want anything to do with me. Or if he got help, and he is blaming and torturing himself for everything that has happened."

"What about this other woman that you mentioned, that he had told you he had feelings for?"

"I don't want to know but I need to know if something happened between them. If I was right or if it was all a figment of my imagination. The thought of them together makes me ill. But I need to know."

"And if you find the answers you are looking for, how will you cope with it?"

"I don't know," Molly frowned "Accept it I guess, there is nothing else I can do. My fear is that he wants nothing to do with me. My hope," she said quietly as she held back a sob. Clearing her throat "My hope is that he got help, that the man I married is on his way here. I just need to know what happened to him and if we still have a future together. If it doesn't happen, then I guess you will be looking at my ugly mug for the next five years."

"You still love him?"

Molly was about to answer her when there was a knock at the office door and when she turned round she was surprised to see Donovan standing there, looking at her.

"Alex?"

"Yeah?" she asked quietly

"He's here. He checked in at the main gate a few minutes ago."

Molly closed her eyes and took a breath. Her heart was racing, and she was trying to control it. He was here. Charles was here. Was her nightmare about to be over? Or was about to begin? She needed to do this, she needed to see him, to talk him.

She had accepted everything that had happened her, but would he?

She barely recognised the fact that she was now standing and heading slowly to the office door, she could hear Helen say something that sounded like "good luck."

She let Donovan lead the way to the gardens, and then she saw him, open the door out onto the terrace, looking around his surroundings and then sitting down. He looked just as she remembered him, no grey hairs or at least none that she could see from this distance. She saw that he was playing with something on his hand as she walked closer to the door. Could it possibly the wedding ring that at one time he had stopped wearing?

Could she still get her happy ever after?

She stopped walking and realised that she had nothing to be nervous about, he was here, yes they both probably going to tell other things that they were not going to like. It was how they handled it was the main thing. Could they move on from everything that had happened? She was about to find out. She needed to find out so she could move on one way or another.

She smiled at Donovan as she opened the door and walked out. She watched as he looked up and then register that it was her as she played with her watch strap while waiting for what he was going to say.

"Hello Charles."

He stood there, speechless for what felt like an eternity, it really was her, or was it his imagination playing tricks with him again.

"Molly?"

"It has been a long time since anyone called me that," she smiled as she walked carefully towards him "Nowadays its Alex, Sgt Alex Stone."

She watched as he walked away from the table and in two strides, he was standing in front of her, his hand coming to rest on her face almost as if he was really making sure it was her. Satisfied he pulled her into his arms and embraced her in a way that neither of them had experienced in a long time.

"You came back to me," he whispered in ear.

"You came back for me," she replied as she closed her eyes and for a few minutes at least allowed herself to sink into his arms and forget everything.

**Molly is alive and they have been reunited! But will it be a happy reunion – all will be revealed in the next chapter which will be posted midweek.**

**Have a Happy Christmas!**


	4. Chapter 4

**As always I do not own the show.**

**Thanks to Debbie for her help with this chapter and huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!**

**This is a big chapter in a short story, to be fair this story could be equal in size to War and Peace but I wanted to keep it short and simple and have used creative licence and my overactive imagination in doing so. I apologise in advance!**

**Oh and Happy Christmas everyone!**

Chapter Four

"Hello Charles."

He stood there, speechless for what felt like an eternity, it really was her, wasn't it or was it his imagination playing tricks with him again?

"Molly?"

"It has been a long time since anyone called me that," she smiled as she walked carefully towards him "Nowadays its Alex, Sgt Alex Stone."

She watched as he briefly frowned and nodded his head before walking away from the table and in two strides was standing in front of her, his hand coming to rest on her face almost as if he was making sure it was really her. Satisfied he pulled her into his arms and embraced her in a way that neither of them had experienced in a long time.

"You came back to me," he whispered in ear.

"You came back for me," she replied as she closed her eyes and for a few minutes at least allowed herself to sink into the safety and warmth of his arms and forget everything.

They continued to embrace for a further few minutes before Charles took a step backwards and cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears. He softly kissed her forehead before resting his forehead on hers.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered gently.

"At times I thought I was," she whispered back.

"I never gave up looking for you," he said with a smile "But then again I wasn't looking for a blonde," he joked.

"I had to change my appearance, at least I have been blonde before but this short, took some get used to."

"I can imagine," he replied as he continued to stare and soak her in. "You sound like, how did you describe my accent, a Rupert?" he smirked.

"I had to lose the cockney too," she smiled back "After living with you it was easier to copy that."

"Indeed. Molly…" he whispered as he tried to hold back the fresh tears.

"Don't, you'll only set me off again," she giggled as she heard her old cockney accent returning and saw Charles grin.

"Why don't we sit down?" Charles said as he pointed towards to the small table and chairs. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

"We do," Molly sighed as she walked carefully over to the table and sat down, Charles was sitting right beside her and was still staring at her, almost as if he were awestruck.

"Roger was right," he smiled.

Molly frowned "What do you mean?"

"He came to see me a few days ago, told me that as far as the MOD were concerned you were dead and thought the news was best coming from a friend. They told him that if I met with Alex Stone I may get the answers I have been looking for the past five years," he explained "Roger had a theory that you were still alive and either in hiding or in witness protection. I hoped and prayed… I can't believe you sitting here beside me Molly."

"It's been a crazy few days," Molly said as she looked around the gardens.

"How long have you been here? In Canada I mean?"

"Since it all started, I guess," Molly said quietly trying to think how to start to tell him everything that she knew. "In a way it only feels like a few months, but at times it feels like a lifetime ago. I…I never thought I'd ever get a chance to tell you what happened."

Charles took a deep breath as he nodded his head.

"I mean I always prayed for this moment, but there were times I never wanted to see you again. I am sure you can understand way," Molly said as Charles continued to nod his head in agreement.

"There is a lot I have to apologise for Molly, I…"

"We both fucked up Charles, we were both as much to blame as each other. I should've been more patient with you, should've pushed Beck and your Commanding Officer to get you help," she said, "I should never have gone on that bloody mission in Afghan."

"I…"

"Right this second all I want to know is the truth," Molly said directly to him "I am going to ask you some questions and I just want a simple, straight forward answer."

"Okay."

"To the world I was missing in action, presumed dead. You were within your right to move on," Molly said stopping to take a breath "Are you with her? Georgie I mean? Or someone else?"

Charles looked her directly in the eye as he answered, "No. Never."

Molly nodded before continuing "Did anything happen between you too, Georgie, back then I mean?"

Charles nodded his head before quietly answering "Yes."

"Before or after we put our marriage out of its misery?" Molly closed her eyes as she asked the question.

"After," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He looked ashamed, distraught but also determined. She hadn't seen him like this in a long time.

"Did it happen after I called you for help?"

Charles nodded his head silently.

"Did you really reply with a chest of drawers speech or was that the early stages of my head injury kicking in?"

"No, that part really happened, I have no idea what I was thinking when I came out with that," Charles sighed. "But no, Lane and I had not… well you know at that stage."

"Shagged you mean?"

"Whatever way you want to put it."

Molly sighed. Her suspicions had been confirmed and she knew that when she dropped the bombshell of everything that had happened to her, it would probably send him over the edge, but he had to know the truth.

"Are you still in contact with her?" she asked quietly.

"No," Charles replied firmly "the last time I saw her was in the hospital on our return to the UK she heard about what happened to you and I didn't even give her a chance to open her mouth before telling her to get lost. I have never made any attempt to get in contact with her. I only found out a few days ago from Roger that she is now married and back in Manchester."

Molly bit her lip and nodded her head. "I need a minute Charles," Molly said as she stood up and walked away from the table and started carefully pacing around the door area.

He sat back in the chair and watched her, was this really happening? She was alive and he was talking to her. He admitted cheating on her and yet somehow was not wearing one of the garden chairs as a hat. He continued to watch her trying to piece together what he had just told her. He remembered seeing photos of her with long blonde hair, so that he was used too but the short hair was what he was trying to get used to. He couldn't help but notice the way she was walking, it was different. She walked so carefully, as if on eggshells so to speak. Something bad had happened to her and he mentally prepared himself to hear what.

A member of staff came out and talked to Molly for a few minutes before returning with some bottles of diet coke and water for them. Molly smiled her thanks and set them back on the table and sat back down.

"Thank you for being honest Charles," she said trying to keep her composure, she knew she was about to hurt him as much as he had just hurt her. "Now I guess it's my turn."

"Molly," Charles said as he reached out to grab her hand. He needed to tell her that his dalliance with Georgie had meant nothing to him.

"Don't Charles," Molly interrupted as she tried to ignore the sensation of him holding her hand. "It hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts that you were running around after her, shagging her when…"

"When what?" Charles asked carefully. He knew something bad must have happened to her that made her have to spend the last five years in the other side of the world from her family and friends. He wanted to know what happened, but at the same time the fear of hearing his worst nightmares coming true was making him want to stall her.

"I was in Afghan, when we talked, about ending things," Molly said quietly as she played with the hem of her top. "Putting our marriage out of its misery."

"A horrible phrase," Charles muttered.

"Maybe but rather apt," Molly replied "From what I remember it wasn't one of our happiest times, we were anything but happy. But back to Afghan, I was selected to join a joint operation to capture a Taliban warlord. It was British Special Forces and American Navy Seals working together. Collectively they needed a medic and I was selected. I just put the phone down on that conversation when my CO asked me if I was okay to do the operation. I wasn't in the right frame of mind. We had just all but ended our marriage. I was hurt and angry. In all honesty the thoughts of going into combat was all I wanted at that time. Take my anger and frustrations out on the Taliban, to try and forget the failure of our marriage and the loss that I felt in that moment."

Charles watched as she stopped briefly and opened her bottle of water and took a sip before continuing.

"The operation went tits up from the moment it started with both units clashing over who was in charge. Anyway, we were ambushed. I was in the second vehicle that was hit, and I could see the warlord cheering in the distance. I knew instantly the two men in the front were dead. The guy beside me, was American, friendly enough if you got past the ego," Molly smiled sadly as Charles listened.

"The pain was everywhere, my head, stomach, leg. For a second I thought if the pain in my leg was the same as the leg injuries you had, and then I saw the Taliban approach, and I immediately thought of you. I mean we had already ended our marriage and yet I call you to help me? It would have been different if we had been on the operation together or even in the same bloody country, but we weren't, so god knows why I called you."

"You called me because you knew I would move heaven and earth to find you and save you," Charles whispered as Molly nodded her head in agreement.

"When you answered the phone, I don't know call it natural reaction I asked you how you are," Molly stated trying not to laugh "I mean there I am lying on my side, everything is blurred, I'm dizzy and my leg is bleeding out and I ask you how you are? Weird right? And all I get is some shit about a chest of drawers."

Charles sat forward on the table and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't deny any of it. He had to accept it.

"In that moment, when you hung up on me, I knew our marriage was really over. That you loved and wanted her more than me, I even briefly thought that I had interrupted you shagging her," Molly said quietly as she looked at him.

"Christ Molly if I could take it all back," he pleaded.

"I blacked out then. I have no idea how long I was out of it. When I woke up, we were in a cell, a dirty stinking cell. It was cold, damp, dark and creepy. I can't remember the name of the American soldier who sat beside me in the van, he was captured and being held with me and even in the cell I couldn't remember his name," She said quietly. "He knew my name, I kept hearing him telling me to wake up and that help was coming."

She paused for a moment before continuing. "The last time I woke up, the pain in my leg was unbearable. My head was spinning, and nothing made sense. I could hear them coming, the Taliban. I heard them hit him, he was trying to protect me, and he paid for it. I couldn't move with the pain, I couldn't fight back, so I was an easy target for them. They were all over me, poking me, spitting on me, attacking me, while their boss looked on. I closed my eyes and heard a gunshot. I opened my eyes and they had killed the American in front me. I blacked out again. When I woke up I was in an American base hospital in Germany with two strange men in suits standing at my bedside having a pissing contest over who would be in charge. I was told all about the injuries I had and that they were monitoring me for head injuries but were pretty sure it was just bad concussion. They also told me what had happened. They asked me if I had seen the warlord and would I be able to identify him, as soon as they asked I could immediately see he face again as if it was it was burnt onto my retinas, the next thing I'm told is that I will be placed into witness protection until he was caught as I am their number one witness and will have a target on my back as far as the Taliban are concerned. To the rest of the world I was missing in action presumed dead."

"Jesus Christ Molly," Charles said as he grabbed Molly's hand tighter, a thought was swirling around his head and he was scared to say it out loud. He had done this to her. "Molly," he said as took a breath and stroked her hand "Did they…the Taliban I mean, did they…?"

"Rape me?"

Charles silently nodded.

"Yeah," she replied quietly. "At least I think so, with all the blackouts I thankfully can't really remember it. I couldn't fight back Charles; I couldn't move my leg to kick them I couldn't do anything except lie there and pray for death. They examined me in Germany and well, all I do know is that I can't have kids. I had to have a hysterectomy."

He closed his eyes, his worst fears confirmed. She had been beaten, tortured, raped while he had been chasing and screwing another woman when she, his wife, the love of his life had needed him the most.

She watched as he took in the news, he could see the shock, the anger, the guilt. Every reaction she had been expecting including thumping the table out of frustration. She could have lied to him, spared him all of this but lying never worked, he would have found out eventually. They both had made bad decisions that they had to live with.

"Molly..," he reached and took both her hands into his, stroking them gently. "If I had actually let you talk when you rang for help, let you speak," he said as he tried to hold back the tears. "I…"

"You did not do this to me Charles," Molly replied firmly and confidently. "I made the decision to go on the operation. Even if you had been on tour with me and were at base camp you would never have gotten to me in time to rescue me from them. You are good Charles, but you're not that good."

"Even so, if I had listened to you all those months even years earlier and gotten help…"

"I would still have been on that tour," Molly replied as she watched him trying to accept what had happened to her. There was still one more thing she had to tell him, and it was probably going to the worst for him to deal with.

"It gets worse," she whispered quietly as she continued to look at him.

"How could it possibly get any worse Molly?" he replied staring at her whilst trying to hold back his own tears.

He continued to look at her and it was like finding the last piece of the jigsaw. Her movements were different, as if she were being cautious, the slight limp. He continued to look at her as he grabbed her hands in a supportive manner, "Molly," he whispered whilst praying that she was not going to tell him what he was thinking and fearing the most.

"My leg," she said quietly "Gangrene had set in and I…"

"Which one?" he asked quietly as a lone tear rolled down his cheek, his eyes glistening as he watched her touch her left leg and slightly rolled up her trouser leg and then he saw it. The prosthetic leg.

"How…" he started to ask but stopped and took a breath "what I mean is, is it above or below your knee?"

"Below," Molly replied as she too now started to cry. "The leg was a mangled mess after the attack and there was no other choice, it was either the lower leg or my life."

Charles nodded as he no longer tried to hold back the tears and process everything that had happened since he got here. "I did this to you; all of this is my fault."

"No, you didn't," Molly smiled "We both just made some shit quick decisions. That and Lady Luck was looking the other way this time."

Charles moved down onto his knees practically kneeling in front of her as he grabbed both of her hands and kissed them "Molly," he whispered as he broke down completely wrapping his hands around her waist and resting his head on her lap. She too broke down, one hand rubbing his back the other running through his hair.

"I am so sorry Molly," he sobbed.

"Me too," she replied.

They had no idea how long they had been sitting together like that, crying and comforting each other, it was only when Charles' leg began to get pin and needles that he realised that he needed to move as he carefully stood up.

"We used to joke that it would be you who'd lose a leg," Molly remarked "Between Afghan and Belize…"

"It's a bloody miracle I still have it," Charles finished for her smiling slightly as he tightened his grip on her hand. "Molly," he said as he looked directly at her and sat back in the chair.

"Its fine Charles," Molly shrugged sniffing slightly. "Can I still walk unaided? Yes I can, although I do use a stick sometimes. I can still drive, and I still work. That was why I was brought here. It is a British base and my handler is stationed here. It is also close enough for the Americans to keep an eye on me and keep me updated on the search for that bastard. I was so angry for a long time but now I have accepted it more and tried to move on. I'm a physiotherapy assistant who is training to become a fully qualified physiotherapist. To everyone here I am Alexandra Stone who was injured in an explosion and who is now trying to get her life back on track."

"You were angry at me?," Charles asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"For a time yes, I was," Molly explained. "And then I realised that it was not your fault. We both made bad decisions that we have to live with. I have PTSD too and I know what it can do to you, how it can mess with your head, how it can change your life and make you question everything. I have accepted what has happened to me. It happened and I can't change that, no-one can so I've dealt with it. I've accepted it and I am not letting what happened in Afghan define the rest of my life, well once I get out of witness protection that is."

"Ditto," Charles replied smiling. She had been through hell and back alone, yet she wasn't angry. If it was even possible, he was falling even more in love than ever before. "About PTSD anyway. I should have listened to you Molly. Regardless of what you say, I should have believed in you, in us and maybe just maybe we would never have got in such a mess."

Molly sighed as she sat back in her chair, glancing quickly around the gardens and then back at Charles. In all fairness he never taken his eyes from her from the moment she had walked out to meet him. She knew the Charles she loved was sitting in front of her, but his admission of adultery still hurt. She had told him about her past five years, so it was only fair that she gave him a chance to explain.

"What made you get help?" she asked as turned back to look at him and saw him briefly flinch before he too sat back in the seat. She could read him like a book as she knew he was contemplating where to begin.

"Guilt," he replied quickly and quietly. "Guilt from cheating on you and the guilt of your disappearance. I wanted to find you, and I knew to do that I needed to get myself better."

"Elvis's death was the catalyst," he explained as he placed his hands on the table "I could have and should have done more beforehand. People tried to warn me about Azzizi, but I wouldn't listen to them believing him to be a friend. So, when I discovered his betrayal it hurt, add that to the fact that I was angry with the army for not letting me come home when you ill, it all distracted me from what was right in front of me. I'll never know if I had sent more men up on to the roof with Elvis would it have made a difference or not? But I do know that the moment he died I promised him that I would look after her, Georgie I mean."

Molly nodded quietly encouraging him to continue.

"Only I took looking after her differently than what most people would," he continued "I saw myself as a disaster a failure. I deliberately pushed you away from me to protect you. Stupid and crazy as it sounds in my head, I loved you so much that I knew I would eventually hurt you too or worse. Add on my determination to protect Lane and PTSD it made me convince myself that she needed and deserved to be loved again and that needed to be by me. She was constantly disobeying orders and getting herself and others into trouble, so she needed protected and in my head that was what I had to do. At one point I let her give the orders and tell me and the men what to do Bangladesh, that was how messed up my head was."

Charles stopped for a moment and saw Molly encouraging him to continue. "When we spoke on the phone and agreed to end our marriage. I did feel regret but at the same time I felt free to love and protect her like Elvis would want. When you rang, and I rambled on about a chest of drawers, I was frustrated at you still contacting me, in my head our marriage was over, and I never needed to see or speak to you again. You were safer without me. How wrong was I? I pursued her and when we finally…" Charles shrugged trying to find the right word

"Shagged?"

"I think I started unravelling then, afterwards, it felt wrong. I felt cheap, dirty, like I had scratched an itch rather than made love to someone I loved. Christ we both tried to convince each other that it would get better," Charles sighed as he glanced at Molly. "I knew then I had slept with the wrong woman. It would only be you and I had pushed you away."

Molly skin was crawling hearing Charles talk about that night with Lane, but he needed to say it and she needed to hear it. He never had any proper feelings for her, and it was just a horrible one-night stand, but it still hurt like hell though.

"We never talked about it again," Charles continued "And then things went to shit very quickly after. We – as in the section found ourselves completely cornered by drug traffickers and to escape them I gave the order that had us all jumping off a cliff, another shit decision made by yours truly."

"When we arrived back in the UK, I wanted to see you, I needed to apologise and beg you for forgiveness that's when Beck came and told me what had happened in Afghan and that you were missing presumed dead," Charles shook his head as he tried to hold back the tears. "I cracked Molly. I discharged myself from hospital and locked myself in our house. I only left the house to buy more alcohol and painkillers, one time I met Fingers on the doorstep, he punched me in the face. I deserved it."

"Fingers? Punched you?" Molly asked half frowning and half laughing at the image in her head.

"On our wedding day he came up to me, and we made an agreement that if I hurt you, he would punch me, commanding officer or not," Charles explained "By then he had probably heard all about me and Lane."

"I drank and drank, even smashed those bloody chests of drawers that you loved so much, the ones we got in that antique shop in Bath."

"You smashed them?"

"Yep," Charles continued "I was drawing all over the walls too, maps of the area where you were kidnapped trying to think where you could be, and then the drawing became scribbling 'I'm sorry' all over everything. The guilt of failing you, cheating on you and ignoring your cry for help was killing me. Beck kicked the door down, got to me in time and got me into rehab."

"Bloody hell Charles."

"Once there, I tried to overdose again and was on suicide watch for a long time. I was up for court martial due to everything with Lane, but I got offered a medical discharge. I spent a long time in rehab and still go to weekly therapy sessions."

"So, you left the army then?" Molly asked still trying to take in everything Charles had told her.

"Yes, there was no going back and if I am honest I don't miss it," Charles smiled "I met a fellow soldier in the same rehab programme as me and he wanted to set up a company specialising in private security and training journalists, charity workers etc how to work in combat zones. We both served in the army and both had PTSD. Through the company I continued to look for you, I never gave up trying to find you."

"It sounds as if you got your life back on track now," Molly smiled.

"It was bloody hard, but it is a start. I bought a small house and land in the middle of nowhere and am constantly renovating it. I needed to keep active and doing something positive otherwise I would have driven myself mad. I even have a dog!"

"Really?"

"My friend and ally. You would love him!"

"What about Sam?" Molly asked smiling "I've missed him so much!"

"Sam's in grammar school now and nearly as tall as you are!"

"Jesus, what are you feeding him and how the hell is he old enough for big school?" Molly shrieked her cockney accent breaking through.

"Tell me about it," Charles smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture.

"Wow," Molly said as she gently traced the picture "Double of his old man that's for sure."

"He misses you."

"I miss him too." Molly replied her voice laced with sadness.

"That was something else I fucked up," Charles said as he put his wallet away "My relationship with Sam. It took a while for Rebecca to allow me any access, but I get to see him one weekend a month. He loves rugby and he is always asking about you."

Molly smiled sadly trying to hold back tears.

"What about mum?" she asked quietly. "Are you still in contact with her?"

"Yes, I am," he smiled "She misses you too."

"God, I miss her too, all of them even Dad," Molly sniffed "Never thought I would hear myself say this, but I miss the noise and chaos of the little bleeders."

"Belinda is still working as a teaching assistant, Dave has job in the local Tesco and your nan is still bossing everyone around," Charles smiled warmly.

"I can't believe you stayed in contact with them," Molly said as she wiped away a tear.

"I wanted too," Charles replied as he took a deep breath. "They are my family too. Although it wasn't easy. Just after you had gone missing, when I was in full scale mental breakdown mode, your mum was there with my mum banging the door down trying to help me. She came and visited me telling me that Molly would not have given up on me so she wouldn't either. When I got better and was out of rehab, I knew I needed to be honest with her."

"About what?" Molly asked him frowning; then it registered "You told her about us, splitting up?"

"I told her everything Molly," Charles replied calmly. "I made a promise to never lie again, and I couldn't lie to her. I told how I had PTSD, how I ended our marriage, Lane, how I blamed myself for everything that had happened. Your dad punched me in the face, Belinda screamed at me and your nan, well she gave me one of her looks that would wither a stone."

"That all, I am surprised she didn't kill you!"

"Despite that I stayed in contact, sent birthday cards, Christmas cards and passed on any information I ever got about you. Eventually Belinda called me, and we met up a couple of times a year just to check in and see how everyone is."

"How are they?"

"Your mum is still your mum; Dave is not only working but stone cold sober. Hasn't touched a drop since my breakdown. According to Belinda when he saw the state of me it the scared the shit out of him."

"Jesus you must have been bad mate," Molly smirked "He is still sober?"

"Your mum and nan still believed you were alive Molly, but Dave, it was harder for him to deal with," Charles explained "In his mind anyway you are dead. Killed in action. For him that was easier for him to deal with rather than living with the image of you, well, being beaten and tortured. He says he reaches for a beer every time he thinks that."

"In some way it makes sense I guess," Molly sad sadly. "I just hope he stays sober if or rather when I ever get to see him again."

"He will. He is a Grandpa now, and you' re an Auntie!"

"No way!"

"Bella had a baby girl last year, Tiffany the absolute double of her mother," Charles smiled as he unlocked his phone and showed her a picture.

"She's gorgeous," Molly smiled not caring that she was now crying "Thank you for my present Uncle Charles?"

"Ah, yes, I had to buy her something for her baby shower and I got her one of these very swanky prams, buggy car seat contraptions!" Charles blushed.

"You did?"

"I did. Not only because I wanted to but also because I knew it was what you would've have wanted to help your sister," Charles smiled as he reached over and wiped away a tear.

"I want to see them, all of them, Sam too and your mum and dad too…" Molly cried "I miss them all so much."

"You will, soon I hope," Charles said trying to comfort her.

"You don't know that," Molly whispered. "Yeah they have caught the warlord but they still trying to find the rest of his cell. I may never be able to leave this place. Never get to see any of them again."

"You will Molly."

"Do you know what it's like Charles?" Molly asked him "To have to your change your appearance so no-one can recognise you, your hair, your voice. To have to continually look over your shoulder. That new soldier who arrived here today – is he really an American soldier who has a headache or is he a CIA agent making sure I am keeping my mouth shut. Is the man in the queue behind me a farmer or a terrorist? That is what my life is like Charles, between looking over my shoulder and the nightmares…"

Charles reached over and pulled Molly into his embrace relieved when she let herself be embraced by him. "Your right Molly I don't know. I will never know. You've been so brave, and you need to be for a little while longer, and if you can't leave here, then I will find some way to smuggle them all here to see you. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I fully intend on keeping that promise Molly," Charles swore. "Whatever you want or need. I will move heaven and earth to get it for you. I owe it to you…"

"Stop," Molly said interrupting him. "I know you mean well, but you don't know what I want or need anymore."

"Then tell me, please sweetheart."

"Peace."

Charles nodded his head. She didn't need to explain he understood completely, that is what he wanted too.

"Peace and quiet and no more living in fear. I used to shitting hate the countryside and trees but now I crave it, need it. If I ever get away from here."

"I get it Molly I do," Charles smiled.

"I don't need anything from you," Molly replied as she sat forward so her arms were resting on the table.

"What do you mean?" Charles frowned worried that Molly no longer loved him or wanted a future with him.

"You blame yourself for everything that has happened to me, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand what you are saying that you made the decision to go on the operation, but I still ignored your call for help, and I have to live with that," Charles replied, his voice stronger than what he was feeling. "I'm still in love with you, I never stopped, and I never will. I will continue to love you until the day I die."

"It hurts Charles," Molly replied as she bit her lip "You and her. It really fucking hurts."

"I know."

"I understand, if you," Charles said before stopping and rubbing his neck "if you want a divorce. I will not argue it or contest it."

"I think we both have some thinking to do," Molly replied quietly "And both probably need to spend some time with our therapists."

Charles smiled softly "Agreed, mine is going to field day with this."

"Mine too."

"Could you ever forgive me Molly? Could you ever trust me enough to give our marriage another chance?"

"That depends."

"On what?" he asked.

"You."

"Me?" he questioned as he leaned forward and took one of her hands in his.

"I don't want your pity Charles. I don't want you to run after me, spoil me out of guilt for everything that has happened to me or to us. I want you to do it because I am what you want, who you want to be with and love me for who I am now," Molly explained "I've changed Charles, I had to, and you probably have too. I'm passed the guilt and anger. I need to you to accept what has happened to me and move on from it. Just like I need to move past what happened with Lane."

"Can you?" he asked quietly.

"I had PTSD too, so I get it, I really do. It messes with your head and for a long time I did blame you, but blame gets you nowhere except down a dark hole. The medic in me accepts it, the wife in me…well I'll get there in time."

"Are you saying that you could possibly forgive me, for everything?" Charles wanting to make sure he was hearing her correctly.

"My outlook on life has changed over the years," she smiled as she explained "I still love you too. Even in the darkest days you were either my knight in shining armour coming in to rescue me or I hated you, but I still loved you. For me to forgive you, I need to see that you can accept what has happened and we can move on from that and not dwell on the past, on everything that has happened."

"I can and I will. I'll do anything it takes Molly," he vowed.

"My meaning of trust has also changed," Molly continued "You may have ignored my call for help, but deep down I always hoped and prayed that the man I married would come back for me. That he would get the help he needed because the Charles that picked up the phone and rambled about a chest of drawers wouldn't be sitting here with me now. Only the Charles I married would be here. I had faith and hope in the fact that if you got help, got better that you would come looking for me."

"I did," he whispered as he stared into her eyes, "I did Molly, I did it all for you, in the hope that you were still alive too."

"I can't give you a baby," she whispered sadly "We always said we would try one day."

"We have Sam," Charles smiled as he leaned forward and rubbed her cheek "We can look into adoption or even fostering. We have options and plenty of land."

She smiled "We are making all these plans and dreams even though I am still stuck here, in Canada in witness protection."

"You will come home Molly, have faith in that. Have the faith you had in me to get better and to find you, this whole nightmare will all be over soon."

"I really hope so," Molly sniffed as she looked at their now entwined hands. "Maybe some more time apart wouldn't hurt either. It'll give us both the chance to think about and process everything we've talked about today and be able to talk about it with our counsellors."

"Yeah," Charles nodded in agreement "Although I hate the thought of leaving you here after finding you."

"Well you know where I live and my new name, you could always write me one of your extravagant letters when you get home," Molly smirked.

"I think I will," he smiled back at her. "We can have a future Molly. I have a beautiful house, well more like bungalow, very few stairs in it, and I can get a proper shower fitted. Whatever modifications the house needs I can do."

"I am perfectly capable of climbing a flight of stairs thank you very much," Molly stated with a smile on her face.

"I'm sure you are, but what about times when you are not wearing the prosthetic? I have spent time with other soldiers in rehab, all I am saying is that I am making a list of things that can be done in the house to make it easier for you. This is me accepting the situation."

"And I am grateful," Molly smiled.

"Do you remember our first tour together in Afghan?" Charles asked her as saw other people coming out into the garden

"Not likely to forget it am I?" Molly smirked.

Charles smiled "Remember when you got to on leave and didn't want to go, practically pleading to stay in that shithole?"

Molly nodded.

"That is how I feel right now."

Molly closed her eyes, "I know, but you need to go. We both have a lot to think about."

It was Charles turn to nod his head "Have you any idea how long it will be until you can come home?"

"However long it takes, was what my handler said, I think I've asked that same question every day for the last five years." Molly sadly replied.

"I will be waiting. I swear Molly as soon as you know call me I can fly back here or pick you up at the airport. Regardless of whether you can forgive me or not, at least let me bring you back to your family."

Molly smiled "I will."

They both stood up to go back inside the building, holding hands they walked towards the door. Just before they reached it Charles pulled her back, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead lightly.

"Please forgive me Molly, I love you. All I want to do is to make you happy," Charles said as he took a step back as he started to walk away.

Molly watched as he opened the door before turning and saying, "I still want you to be the last thing I see."

**Once again I have no experience in anything that I have just written and apologise for any offence caused. As I mentioned at the start of the chapter I wanted this to be a short, simple story that had a slightly different outlook this time focusing on hope and redemption. No matter what we face or go through, even in the darkest and hardest of times, hope remains.**

**Next part should be up over the weekend.**

**Thanks**


	5. Chapter 5

**As always I do not own the show, I only wish I did!**

**It is that time of the year between Christmas and New Year when you have absolutely no idea what day it is… it is Sunday or so I am told! Thanks to Debbie for her help with this and to everyone who has read and reviewed.**

**This chapter picks up pretty much where the last one finished. Enjoy!**

Chapter Five

Leaving her behind was killing him. He had only just found her again; she was alive and well and she was talking to him and he had to leave her. Again.

He lost count of the amount of times he wanted to turn the car back around, head back to the army base; to somehow smuggle Molly out of there and bring her back to the UK with him. He could and would keep her safe. It was what he did for a living, protected people and taught them how to survive conflict. His land was isolated and secure. It was the perfect place for her to come and live in safety.

But he knew in doing that he was only putting them both at risk. He would be arrested not to mention risk exposing that Molly was alive before they knew for certain that the terrorists had been captured or extinguished which would put her life at risk. He loved her and wanted her by his side but not if led to her being captured again. Or worse.

He had to be patient, just like he has been every day for the past five years.

As he drove along the interstate towards Calgary, he realised that everything was now out of his hands, he had no control over any of this and had no idea how to deal with that.

He had wanted to find out what happened to Molly. Today he had. He wanted to know if she was alive or dead? She was most definitely alive; and the relief and joy had penetrated his veins.

Was she the same Molly he had fell in love with all those years ago? Yes, but even more beautiful, braver and stronger than he could have ever imagined. War and conflict had changed her just as it does everyone, but she was changed for the better.

Did he deserve her forgiveness? That was still a question he could not answer but could only hope she could.

Did he want a future with her? A few weeks ago all he wanted was closure. He would have accepted her being alive and wanting nothing to do with him once he had admitted his failings. But now, that he'd seen her, spoken to her, confessed everything, it only confirmed what he really knew all along; he was very much still in love with her and wanted a future with her.

That was where everything was out of his control.

He made his intentions clear he just had to prove to Molly that he wanted to be with her out of love and not out of guilt or pity for her injuries. But how could not feel guilty in everything that had happened to her.

His future, their future was totally out of his hands. Molly could only return to him when it was safe for her to do so. Once the entire terror cell had been either captured or eliminated, but even then she would need to decide if she was able to forgive him for what had happened with Lane.

He could beg, plead with her and he would if he thought it would do any good. He would completely remodel the house to make it a home for her, but everything came down to her. His future happiness lay very firmly in her hands.

His therapist was going to a field day when he got back to the UK.

By the time he had arrived back at his hotel in Calgary, Charles was getting restless and agitated. He knew what was happening; he wanted to lash out, to hit someone, and then drink himself stupid with the first bottle of alcohol he could find. But he knew that there was no point as the only person he would be hurting was himself and it wouldn't solve anything.

He needed to do something, anything otherwise he would go stir crazy. Virtually running past the hotel bar and he waited impatiently as the lift moved slowly towards his floor. He ran into his room and quickly changed his clothes before leaving again and heading for the hotel gym. Hitting the treadmill hard and fast, he just kept running and running until he had nothing left to give. A member of staff had to literally pull him of the machine and put him in the lift back to his room.

He didn't want to stop, despite his body demanding otherwise. As he staggered through his hotel room, he knew he had to keep doing something to try and stop thinking about his conversation with Molly.

He closed and locked the door behind him before glancing at the mini bar. Ignoring it and heading for a much-needed shower, within minutes he was standing under scalding hot water, doing the one thing he promised Molly he wouldn't do. He was blaming himself.

He promised to love her forever but what did he do? Broke her heart. Ignored her call for help when she was injured.

It was his fault that she was there in the first place, had driven her to take that tour with his disgusting treatment of her, and there she was beaten, tortured, raped and lost her leg.

He shut his eyes. In that second the images he has always tried to ignore flooded him. This was why he needed something to focus on and hopefully take away from the guilt that was eating away at him. His brain wouldn't switch off, despite him being bodily exhausted

Out of sheer frustration he punched the tiled wall of the shower, sliding down the wall to the floor as the tears burst through. He cried like he not done in years. He cried for his wife, his Molly, his lost friend, the life he had carelessly threw into the wind. By the time the tears stopped, he was mentally exhausted too. Pulling himself together he stood up turning off the shower, grabbed a towel to dry himself quickly he walked slowly towards the bed.

He grabbed his phone to check the time of his return flight back to the UK. As he lay down one thought suddenly occurred to him. What the hell was going to tell his parents, and Molly's parents?

OGOGOGOG

He was running, sweating, scared of what awaited him. Dressed in his army fatigues, rifle in hand as someone blew open the door to the compound and he followed them in. Gunfire was coming in all directions, but he didn't care, he just wanted to find his wife. There was screaming and yelling coming from one area of the compound and he started to run even faster. He could hear her screaming out his name, when he reached the cell she was crying, yelling, punching and hitting the man on top of her. The next thing he saw was the axe; then the blood as he screamed with her.

Charles bolted upright in bed gasping for breath. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would burst through his chest. It had been the worst of all his nightmares but after he had got his breathing under control he wasn't surprised after today's events.

In his dream he had found Molly, witnessed her attack and amputation. He had done this to her, he had to endure it as she had done and now, he had to live with it.

Stumbling out of bed straight in the direction of the for mini bar within seconds he had his hand on the small bottle of whiskey. Knowing he wouldn't even taste it; it was that a small a measure. But it might be enough to take the edge of, maybe get some proper sleep, drown out the images that were in his head.

One mouthful wouldn't be enough, and he would let her down again, that simply wasn't an option. Putting the bottle back and closing the door to the mini bar firmly, he stood up straight staring at his reflection in the mirror. The only light in the room was coming from under the door from the corridor outside his room, but it was bright enough to make out his reflection. All he wanted and all that was important to him was Molly in his life and them having a future together, that wasn't going to happen if he started drinking again.

He was painfully aware how badly he'd fucked up or as Molly would say what an epic fail he was, but Molly words kept ringing in his ears "it's what you do now that matters". She didn't want his pity only his love, that was off course if she could ever forgive him for his betrayal with Lane.

He had no idea how long he stood there for, but a plan was forming in his head, he glanced at the alarm clock realising the gym would be open again. Doing something was better than lying in bed not sleeping. He dressed quickly and hit the gym like a man possessed, followed by the swimming pool where he pounded the water length after length.

The airport wasn't far from his hotel; so, the drive didn't take long, he checked in for his flight with nearly four hours to spare. Grabbing an extra-large coffee and situating himself at an internet station to start his search for information.

Molly wasn't paralysed she could still walk unaided but there were so many questions running around his head that he badly wanted the answers to. Reading everything he could about prosthetic legs to get an idea of what she had to deal with daily and for the rest of her life. What modifications would be needed to make a house both comfortable and accessible. He devoured everything he could find taking copious notes.

Thinking back to all those years ago when he proposed to her, promising to love her and spoil her rotten. Building her dream house when they left the army and could put down some proper roots for their family. It was a promise he was determined to keep now more than ever. She would argue he was doing it out of guilt, but that wasn't the case. He was doing it because he loved her and she deserved it, all he wanted to do was make her happy, that hadn't changed never had. Even in the darkest days of being crippled with PTSD he thought she would be happier without him, but he knew that they would only ever be truly happy together.

The flight back to London was long but he kept himself busy reading up and making more notes, even making drawings of his plans.

It was early evening by the time he pulled into the gravel driveway of his house. As he parked the car a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He would collect Jack from the kennels in the morning. He hadn't slept since the nightmare and spent all day thinking and planning for the future, their future and that was enough to keep him going.

He found Molly. She was alive and she was okay. No matter what happened or what he had dreamt, she was okay. He smiled as unlocked the front door, wishing that she were there with him and briefly wondered what she was doing at that very moment.

OGOGOGOGOGGOG

**Molly**

"So, what happened yesterday Alex?" Helen asked her carefully as she studied the young woman sitting in the chair in front.

"I don't know where to start," Molly sighed tempted to ask her therapist to call her by her real name just once.

"At the beginning?" Helen smiled back.

"I'm going to have that bloody song from that film stuck in me head all day now," Molly replied as she tried to remember the name of the film "Sound of Music!" she stated proudly.

"I don't know how to explain it," Molly said quietly. "It was everything I wanted to be, but it wasn't if that makes any sense at all?"

Helen nodded her head encouraging Molly to continue.

"It was the Charles I loved and married," she said quietly telling herself not to cry.

"He got help then?"

"Yeah, Helen… he…" Molly said trying to find the right words to explain how she felt and what she wanted to say. "He's had five years of hell. When he found out what had happened to me, that I was missing in action, he just fell to pieces, had a breakdown, drank himself stupid, nearly took his own life. He blamed himself for everything." Molly said quietly "But he got help and has left the army now. Got a new job, new house, everything to start over, but he never stopped looking for me apparently."

"I am very pleased to hear that," Helen smiled.

"We were both very open and honest with each other," Molly continued "I asked him straight off about her, Lane I mean. If anything happened with her."

Helen said nothing except arch her eyebrow.

"They shagged. Only once but it was enough," Molly spat out. Even thinking about it made her feel nauseous. "He told me months before anything happened he started to have feelings for her, but he didn't act on them until we had agreed to end our marriage. They had sex while I was locked in that cell. My worst fears confirmed."

"How does that make you feel?"

"What do you think?" Molly bit back and continued "A stupid part of me wants to stand up and tell everyone that I was right, but that's me being stupid and petty. It hurts, a lot. Getting it confirmed once and for all sort of gives me closure on it but it really fucking hurts."

"Is he still with her or in contact with her?"

"No," Molly replied as she cleared her throat to try and keep her emotions at bay. "It happened when on tour, other people noticed what was going on between them. He barely spoke to her afterwards. Said when he got back to the UK and was told about me, he basically told her to sod off. She is a nurse now and married to someone else."

"So, a one-night stand then?"

Molly nodded, "He described it as the worse sex ever, if I can believe him."

"And do you believe him?"

Molly thought for a second before answering. "Yeah. I do. Charles couldn't lie to save his life. He was open and honest no matter how much it hurt him and me. I think that was the start of him unravelling. She was his best friends on off girlfriend or fiancée depending on what day of the week it was. She was a friend and when he died Charles felt it was his responsibility to look after her, protect her. Add in some PTSD and it all morphed into something else. The shit sex was a wakeup call supposedly."

"Does he know what happened to you?"

Molly nodded her head "Yeah. It was hard telling him you know." She sniffed.

"It was hard telling someone you loved and still love what they did. As for my leg it was almost as if he sensed it, he took it better than I expected," Molly sniffed "But I know him, he is going to blame himself and I'm scared he'll do something stupid."

"Drinking again do you mean?"

Molly nodded "I told him I didn't want his pity or his guilt. What happened to me wasn't his fault and that if we're to have any future together it has to because he wants me and loves me not out pity or because of guilt for the past."

"Wise words."

"I love him, and I hate him!" Molly sobbed "It was the man I married sitting there with me and I fell in love with him all over again, but then I remember what he did. It feels like a knife in the heart. I'm so angry so confused Helen. He told my parents what he did but yet he's still alive… my head feels like it is information overdrive."

"There is a lot of information to process."

"I get it, I really do. I've had PTSD too so I'm all too aware how it messes with your head, so I understand the whole thing with Lane, but doesn't mean I have to like it, or I have to get past it. Last night I dreamt about them in bed together, I… love him and I want to forgive him but…"

"But what?"

"What if I'm worrying about all this, loving him, forgiving him and planning a future with him," Molly said suddenly worried "And I'm never allowed out of here. What if they never capture that cell and I have to stay forever? I could be torturing myself with whether I can forgive him or not and it's all for nothing."

"Alex, I have every faith in that you'll be free to go home and resume a normal life. You have to stay positive."

"Easy for you to say."

"Okay, let's think about this is a different way," Helen explained as she leaned forward and looked at Molly. "Everything you just told me? You have been telling me this for as long as I have been your therapist. Your hopes and fears. The only difference is in the past 24 hours is they have now been confirmed. You'll have good and bad days. We all do. I'm going to ask you some questions that only you can answer."

Molly nodded in agreement.

"In your darkest days, when everything hurts, and you just want to stay in bed. Who do you want to help you or talk too?"

"In the good days, when you show everyone what you are still capable of doing and do it with a smile on your face, who do you want to share that with?" Helen asked, "Me, your husband or someone else?"

"If Donovan walked in here today, just like he did yesterday. Told you everyone had been captured or killed and you were free to do whatever you like, who would be the first person you want to share that with? And finally, when you do leave here, who is it that you want to return to and start the rest of your life with? Your family, your husband or alone in peace, quiet and freedom?"

"I think I know the answers to those questions Alex," Helen continued, "but you just need to realise them yourself."

OGOGOGOGOGOG

**Two days later**

"Jesus Christ!"

Charles sat and watched as his friend took in everything he had just told him. One-minute Roger Beck was sitting down at the table, the next he was on his first lap around the table, arms waving everywhere but very few words coming out.

"Hang on, are you even allowed to be telling me this?" he asked Charles

"Probably not but considering you've been the go-between all these years between myself and the MOD I thought it was only fair that you should know the truth," Charles explained.

"I suspected she was still alive, but this…" Roger said as he stopped walking and leant up against a chair. "In witness protection in Canada is one thing. I can wrap my head around that but everything else…. How the hell is she still alive and sane?"

"A truly excellent medical team and support network out there, not to mention her inner strength and resilience," Charles replied quietly "There's still some of dad's whiskey in the cupboard if you need one. Help yourself."

"Do not tempt me," Roger sighed as he sat back down again. "If it weren't for the fact that I have to pick the kids from after school club I could be sorely tempted. Charles tell me you haven't?"

"Haven't touched a drop. I swear on Sam and Molly's lives," he vowed.

"Good."

"She doesn't blame me, for any of it," Charles explained still in a bit of shock himself at the events of the last few days. "She did blame me for a time until she realised that she made the decision to go on that tour and that mission when her head really wasn't in it. Her decision, her mistake in Molly's eyes anyway."

"There is some truth in that," Roger agreed "And be honest even if by some miracle you had been there on that tour with her, you wouldn't have been able to get her in time. If you had survived the initial explosion."

"I know, it all makes sense, but still it eats away at me. She called me for help, and I rambled about a chest of drawers. It doesn't make any sense why I said that and she was trapped in a vehicle needing my help," Charles all but shouted "What is worse, they were beating her, raping her," his voice breaking at that point "When I was… with Lane. When she needed the most I wasn't there, and that is what is tearing me apart inside."

"Do you think you can have a future together?" Roger asked carefully.

"I hope so, I really hope so," Charles smiled sadly "But that all depends on two things – Molly being allowed to come home and her forgiving me."

"Well from what you told me; it sounds as if she is halfway there. I still don't know how she's managed to overcome all of this and still be the same Molly."

"She was always strong, a fighter. Much stronger than I have ever been."

"She is Charles, she is. She never gave up on you then and I can't see her walking away now either," Roger said. "I take it her family; your parents don't know yet?"

"No. I want to tell everyone. Christ, I want to shout it from the roof tops, but I can't risk it. If I tell Belinda she will want to see her, they all will and as much as I would happily pay for flights and drive them to the base I simply don't know if they will let us in. They could move her again in a heartbeat."

"Can you contact her at all?"

"I gave her my address here, so I am hoping they will at least let us write," Charles explained. "I told mum and dad that I was away on a business trip."

"And Mrs Dawes?"

"I called Belinda and told her it was a dead end. I couldn't bare lying to her face."

"Understandable," Roger sighed as he sat back and noticed the time on the clock on the kitchen wall. "Shit, I better go!"

"Off course, give everyone my love," Charles said as he too stood up and watched Roger get his coat.

"Promise me you'll let you know the minute you hear anything, and I mean anything."

"I will," Charles said as he walked his friend to his car and waved him off.

He stood for a minute and looked around his land. It had been raining all day but now it had finally stopped. The low cloud covering the tops of the some of the trees in the hills and forest that surrounded the house. The cool fresh autumnal air was just what he needed as he reached inside and grabbed his heavy jacket from the coat stand and nodded at the dog that it was time for his walk. He grabbed Jack's ball and locked the door behind him.

He had no idea how long he been out walking through the woods, thinking about everything and nothing. Jack was his faithful buddy beside him as he sniffed his way along the paths and searched for his ball.

It was only when he saw the clearing and his house in the distance that he had the feeling that something wasn't right but from a quick look everything looked the same as he had left it. He briefly thought Roger had forgotten something, but his car was not there.

The soldier in him kicked in as he quickly glanced around, nothing was out of place and he couldn't see anyone else in the woods. Every now again a walker would get lost and he would have directed them back to the public footpath a few miles away but from a quick look no-one else was there. Jack had stopped walking beside him too and started a low growl. The dog had picked up on his heightened senses too. He followed the trail on the gravel and walked alongside where his car was parked when Jack bolted around the vehicle and towards the steps onto the porch, barking loudly and then stopped.

All he could see when he turned around was his dog, his guard dog who was supposed to scare off intruders licking someone from head to toe. He briefly wondered if Rebecca had dropped off Sam without telling him but as he continued to walk he saw that although this person was sitting on the steps they were definitely older and slightly taller than his son who definitely didn't own a bright red coat.

It was the giggle that stopped his heart as he walked closer and made out the short brown hair and then she lifted her face.

"Molly?" he said as almost ran to where she was sitting "Jack, down!"

"Miss me?" she laughed as she continued to play with the dog who was clearly enjoying the attention and at the shocked expression on Charles face.

"I, what… you're here!"

"For a guard dog he's certainly very friendly," Molly smiled warmly as she carefully stood up and took the offered hand from Charles.

"He usually barks at strangers," Charles still slightly shocked at finding Molly sitting on his doorstep. "Your back to being a brunette."

Molly's hand automatically went to hair and touched it. "Just need to grow it long again," she smiled "The second Donovan came and told me that the entire terror cell had been eliminated and I was free to come home I bought a brown hair dye. My blonde days are well and truly over mate! Next stop was the brightest coat I could find at the airport. I am sick off always being in dark clothes."

"It's all over then?" Charles asked making sure he had heard her correctly.

"Yep It is," Molly smiled as they stood face to face.

"You've come home then?" he asked her carefully.

"If you still want me?" she asked quietly biting her lip.

Charles didn't answer her, he simply pulled her into his arms and kissed her in a way that he'd been dreaming about for years but had almost given up hope of every being able to again.

**The final chapter will be posted over the New Year holiday – Happy New Year everyone and thank you for reading**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own the show. I just wish that I did.**

**Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing, they are all greatly appreciated! Huge thanks to Debbie for all her help and encouragement with this story!**

**So this is the final chapter – hope you will enjoy!**

Chapter Six

"I see you found my hiding spot," Charles said as he stepped out the front door and onto the covered porch. He set the steaming hot cup of coffee on the ground beside the bench and sat down beside her. Within seconds she was curled up in a ball beside him.

"Can it be ours now?" Molly asked as Jack crept over and curled at their feet.

"Definitely," Charles smiled as he reached over to kiss her on the forehead.

"Trees used to scare the shit of me," Molly sad quietly "Now I find them soothing, comforting."

"Ditto, well about the soothing affect not being scared of them," Charles smirked.

Molly's response was to playfully punch him on the shoulder.

"I can see why you bought this place. It's a little bit of heaven," Molly sighed as she sipped her tea.

"I see you found your tea bags then," Charles smiled as he reached for his coffee.

"Imagine my surprise when I opened the cupboard and saw a packet of Yorkshire Tea sitting there and not one capsule of Rosabaya in sight," Molly laughed.

"My dear rosabaya has been discontinued to the coffee heaven in the sky," Charles sighed "But I always keep a box of your favourite tea bags just in case you ever turned up on my doorstep."

"Like yesterday afternoon then?"

"Precisely," Charles smirked "planning and all that bollocks."

They sat like that for a few more minutes before Charles realised that she did not have her prosthetic leg and saw her walking stick on the other side of the porch.

"You're not wearing…." He stopped not sure how to describe it, because it sounded very strange in his head anyway to say that she was not wearing her leg.

"Not yet anyway," Molly muttered "I have a daily routine that I need to do first and I thought I could show you it, so you know you could help me on the days that I am too lazy."

"Off course, it would be an honour," Charles smiled as he pulled her in even closer into him.

"And I also kinda hoped we could finish our talk from last night?" Molly asked quietly as she looked up at him.

"Oh, that talk," Charles sighed frowning, then smirked as he saw the sheepish expression on her face. "The deep and meaningful we were having, where I was telling you that you were the love of my life and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you only to look down and find you snoring and dribbling on my chest?" he smirked.

"I do not dribble."

"Molly the still damp t-shirt is in laundry basket if you don't believe me."

"I am never going to live this one down, am I?"

"Nope," Charles smiled "But in all seriousness Molly, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Ditto."

"Here I am pouring my heart, and all I get is ditto!" he replied rolling his eyes as he bit back a laugh.

"Bleeding ditto, you forget the bleeding part," Molly laughed as she to remembered back to the early days of their relationship. Her voice turned serious now as she looked at him, cupping his cheek gently "I love you too. Falling asleep and waking up in your arms… I never thought I would experience that again. I missed it."

"Me too."

"We've both probably changed over the last few years, we need to get to know each other again," Molly said quietly as she continued to look at him.

"We do," Charles agreed "But we'll do everything at your pace Molly, and I mean everything. If you want your own room, take your pick."

"No," Molly replied quickly. "I loved sharing a bed with you last night and I want that every night, I just don't know if I am ready for… well you know."

"Molly, the fact that you are here, alive and giving me another chance is all I could ever ask for. Everything else will happen only when we both want it to."

"Thank you," Molly whispered as they both moved closer to each other and gently kissed.

"There's still something troubling you isn't there?" Charles smiled as he pulled back slightly.

"We have to tell people," Molly said quietly "That and I am back. The last thing I want to do is lie to them, but I really don't want to tell everyone about what happened out there. Obviously, I am going to have to with my leg, but everything else… I don't want them looking at me that way."

"What way?"

"Pity. I have moved on past that stage and it is the last thing I want," Molly explained.

"Then you tell them what you feel most comfortable in telling them," Charles replied, "And I will be there beside you, supporting you and telling everyone how wonderful you are."

"I want to see them, my family I mean," Molly said as she glanced out into the woods "It's just the reaction I am dreading."

"Would it be easier to bring my family and yours together in one room and have one massive dinner or party, or would you prefer it be more private?"

"I don't want a party," she replied quickly "I know I've come back home and there is a lot to celebrate but too many people died, and I just don't really want to celebrate. If that makes sense."

"It does," Charles replied "This is my weekend to have Sam. Do you feel ready to meet him, if not I can re-arrange another weekend with Rebecca?"

"No, you won't, I can't wait to see him again, I have missed him so much!"

"He's really missed you too Molly."

"This is going to sound awful, but it's my family I dread seeing the most, I love them and miss them, but I'm scared of telling them anything in case it sends dad back on the booze again."

"I was the same with my parents," Charles agreed as sat up and leaned forward, "after my breakdown, I saw Beck all the time, but I refused permission for mum and dad to come and visit. I was too ashamed to look them in the eye. I know our circumstances are very different, but I understand what you mean. When you see them again, when you hug them again, all your fears will wash away I promise."

Molly smiled sadly as Charles continued.

"How about this, you will see Sam tomorrow when I collect him from the train station. Mum and dad are arriving home from Lake Garda on Monday morning and are always mithering on about me coming for dinner. We could drive up on Monday and surprise them at dinner and then head over to London mid-week, see your family."

"What about your work? You've missed enough time cause of me?" Molly asked him.

"Molly I part own the company I can take the time. My business partner knows how much I've searched for you over the years and last night told me to take as much leave as I need. God knows I am entitled to the leave with the amount I've accrued over the years."

"Only if you are sure?"

"Molly, it is done."

"Thanks," she replied softly "There's so much I need to sort out. I need a job, regardless of what you say I want to pay my way and I really want to finish my physiotherapy course."

"Well we can look into that over the weekend," Charles said reassuring her "As for the job, if you are interested, we are in a need of an excellent first aider. We provide private security but also train journalists and contractors in war zones. Combat first aid is a must. I know it's not what you were doing but it would be a start."

"Are you serious?" Molly asked, "We might actually get to work together?"

"Throw in my combat experience and your military cross and I think we make a perfect team," Charles smiled

"The nuts."

Charles laughed as he stood up "Let's get you back inside, it's starting to get cold out here."

"Yes boss!"

"Don't call me that," Charles sighed as bent down "I'm going to lift you up and carry you into the house.

"You don't need to, I have my walking stick," Molly said as she looked down and frowned "Oh."

"Which Jack is currently drooling over," Charles said as he scooped her into his arms. Her laughter warming his heart. "Besides I still need to carry over the threshold off our new home."

OGOGOGOGO

**Sam**

Molly sat back on the huge sofa, lifting the nearest cushion as she hugged it to her. She was impatient. After everything that happened to her she was still impatient by nature. Today was the day she would start to see everyone again. Although she couldn't wait to see everyone, she wanted it to be over with too, so that she could get on and move on with her life again. She loved and missed all of her friends and family, but she knew after the emotional reunions would come the questions about what had happened to her out there. Telling them all limited information of the grounds of national security would only go so far.

All she wanted was to return to normal. Wake up every morning with Charles lying beside her, do her exercises, have breakfast, go to work, come home to her husband every night and spend each weekend with him either alone at their cosy cottage or with her family in London or his in Bath. She couldn't wait until she saw Jac again, resume their constant texts and video calls that they used to do in the past. That particular reunion would have to wait as Jac was currently on tour in Africa and was yet to reply to her or Charles' email.

In the meantime, Charles was on his way back with Sam, who Molly had to constantly remind herself was now a teenager and nearly as tall as her. She couldn't help but think about how their relationship would be now; would he still be her partner in crime? Would he want to spend time with her like he used to? She knew that the relationship between father and son had been badly fractured when her and Charles fell apart, but they had got it back on track over the last few years. Charles had said Sam had a developed a love of all things relating to sport, even mentioned going to watch Sam play in a school rugby match and asked Molly if she would like to come to. She had jumped at the invitation, it just the slice of normalcy that she was craving.

The sound of car tyres crunching on the driveway made her sit up, put the cushion back in its right place and have a careful glance out the window. They were here. She carefully stood up and hid in her position behind the door to the lounge. She had it all planned out.

She heard Charles walk up the steps, along the porch and open the front door, before pretending that he left something in the car. Sam couldn't care less, he was a typical teenager more interested in his mobile phone as he trundled on into the house, past the door to the lounge where he dumped his school bag and headed for the kitchen.

Molly tiptoed out quietly and stood in the doorway, smiling at Charles who now at the front door before yelling "Oi! Boots off in the house mister!"

Sam kept walking "Fine!" he yelled, then stopped suddenly as it finally registered what and who had just shouted at him. He turned around slowly and saw Molly standing there.

"Alright mate?" Molly smiled at him, biting her lip in anticipation of his reaction.

A spilt second later and Molly was pinned up against the doorway in Sam's tight embrace. "I take it you missed me then?" she whispered as she bit back a sob. She could see Charles now standing beside trying to keep his own emotions in check.

"How… what?" Sam sobbed as he pulled back slowly "You're really here?"

"I am."

"How long for?" Sam asked quietly

"For good," Molly smiled back as he hugged her again. This time Charles stepped forward, rested his right hand on her lower back and pulled his arm around his son's shoulder. He had the most important people in his life back in his arms again.

The weekend had gone far too fast for everyone. Now she found herself standing on the porch and waving as Charles arrived back from dropping Sam at the train station.

"You okay?" he asked as Jack raced over to greet him and followed him back up the steps to the house.

"Just hard saying goodbye to him," Molly sniffed. "That and I have been thinking."

"Uh oh," Charles smirked as he came and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Molly smiled "About mum and my lot, I think I want to call them beforehand; I am scared that if I walk into the room unannounced it may give them, nan especially, a Julius Caesar."

"Good point," Charles replied carefully.

"Surprising Sam was brilliant; he is still too young to really grasp the full meaning of war and conflict just yet. Doing the same sort of surprise with your parents is going to be hysterical."

"She will drop or trip over something knowing my mother," Charles said matching her smile "How about we go in now and I'll call Belinda see if we can even do a video call?"

Molly's eyes lit up and then glanced at her watch "Maybe later, mum will just be putting the tea on?"

"Okay, how about this," Charles said as a plan formed in his head "We take Jack for a walk, come back and call your mum later. Then tomorrow we will drive up to London to see them all and stay overnight?"

"But we are going to your mum and dad's tomorrow?" Molly frowned

"They are used to me cancelling on them," Charles smiled "Besides I think it's more important that you see your family first."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

They hugged for a few moments and as he pulled back Charles knew that there was still something troubling Molly. "Penny for them?"

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not."

"It's just Sam is the closest I will ever have to child of my own and in the blink of an eye I have missed five years of his life, he is all grown up now."

"Molly."

"I know I am being silly," Molly sniffed.

"No, you're not," Charles smiled "Sam adores you; he always has. I think he loved you more than Rebecca and I. We ask or tell him to do something, he ignores us. One word from you and he just does it no questions, always has."

"That's because we're mates, partners in crime," Molly smiled "Or we were." She added as the smile dropped from her face.

"Still are if this weekend is anything to go by." Charles snorted a chuckle as he remembered the way the pair of them had ganged up on him over the weekend.

"It's just, this time last week I was in my own private hell and now, here I am in the perfect house, the perfect location with the love of my life, my soul mate. Living out my perfect life and then I realise that it will never be perfect because…"

"Because what?" he asked her carefully

"We always said we'd want kids and now I can't give you any," Molly whispered as she desperately tried to hold back a sob.

"Molly," Charles said calmly and firmly as he cupped her face in his hands looking directly into her eyes, "I love you. It's you I want to grow old with, you're still the last person I want to see. If I had to chose between you and having kids, I would choose you every time. I can live without any more children, but I can't live without you Molly. Up until last week I was barely existing. Now I feel more alive than I have in years. That's because of you. We have plenty of time to talk about children and our options, fostering, adoption…"

"I know but it's not the same," Molly said quietly

"Look how much you cared for Bashira Molly, there are plenty of children out there craving the love we could give them," Charles said as he tenderly touched her cheek.

"Why do you always know exactly the right thing to say to make me feel better, reassure me?" Molly sniffed and then giggled.

"I don't always, but Molly lets get you settled back home first and then we can talk about all our options in more details?"

"Okay." Molly smiled back at her husband's warm and loving expression.

"In the meantime," Charles smirked as he glanced down at the dog now at their feet "I think Jack wants his walk."

Molly looked down at the hopeful expression on the dog's face along with the ball hanging out of his mouth. "You want your walk, don't you handsome?" she said as she stroked him.

"Yep and then we call Belinda."

OGOGOGOG

The phone call had been everything that Charles was expecting and more. He dialled Belinda's mobile phone number and she answered it on the fourth ring, her voice answered with a worried edge to it. He'd asked if Dave and Nan were they because he had new information to share with them all. Belinda had nervously said they were both there with her, so he changed the call from voice to video. Having told them that Molly was not only still alive but well, he observed their reactions to the news as he could see each of them try to take it all in. Once the news had sunk in a bit they all began to blurt out questions at him. Questions that needed to be answered by him and Molly, but mainly Molly so he decided that it was time to bring her in to this group chat.

When he turned the phone camera over to Molly, the screaming and yelling began. Charles was happy to just sit back and watch the interaction between them. He smiled at the joy on all their faces and knew that this was the right way to do it. The drive to London the next day felt as if took forever. Molly was bouncing when she left their house, but he could see the nerves starting to set in as they got closer to the Newham estate. He made the familiar turn to the block of flats where the Dawes family lived and both of them immediately saw the banner outside the flat "Welcome home Molly!"

Molly muttered that it had reminded her when she came on home on leave from Afghan, but this time it was very different. Everyone had come down and was standing waiting on the footpath, as soon as she was out of the car she was embraced by her family. Charles saw Dave standing in the background watching, observing and most likely trying to keep hold of his own emotions. He walked over to him, shook hands, surprisingly for the first time he could remember Dave hugged him and thanked him for bringing his daughter home.

The rest of the day was a mass of hugs, kisses and endless cups of teas and coffee as Molly was pretty much reunited with everyone. The eventual questions came, Molly replied as simply as she could and stated that a lot of the time she couldn't really remember much of what had happened.

Belinda wasn't buying any of it and quietly asked Charles for the truth. Molly had openly told them about her leg and showed them her prosthetic leg, but Belinda knew that there was more. Charles hated lying to her, but it was ultimately Molly's decision to tell her mother what had happened to her. He managed to answer Belinda's question as best as could by telling her Molly needed time to adjust to being back home, free and even being Molly again. What she needed from everyone right now was for them to be patient with her.

They spent the night at the Dawes flat with Charles sleeping on one sofa and Dave on the other. Needless to say, he didn't get much sleep. Molly slept in her mum's bed with Belinda on one side, Bella on the other and her niece in a carry cot at the end of the room.

It was lunchtime when they finally got into the car for the long drive to Bath. She loved her family she really did, but now Molly welcomed the peace and quiet of the long journey. The radio was on low in the background and every now and again Charles would reach over to take hold of her hand. It brought back many memories and it made Molly realise just how much she had missed everyone.

They parked at the end of the street, as she got out of the car Molly tightened her coat against the chill in the air. It felt strange to be back here as she stared at the semi-circle of houses within Royal Crescent. She remembered the very first time she set foot in the house, being so scared in case she damaged something and then she thought back to all the other times she had been here Christmas time especially. There was a lovely warm and homely feel in the house, and she knew that today would be no different.

Charles was gathering their overnight bags and the bottle of wine he had bought at the service station from the boot of the car. "Do you want your stick Molly?"

She turned and smiled at him "Yeah, just to be safe. I'm a bit stiff from sitting for so long." He lifted it out of the boot and locked it behind him.

She carried the wine in one hand, the walking stick in the other as he wrapped his free arm around her waist, they walked side by side along the footpath to his parents' house.

All the lights were on downstairs and they both smiled as they reached the front door. As he got the key out Charles smirked "Are you ready for hurricane Linda?"

"Oh yes," Molly replied smiling "And her homemade lasagne."

"How do you know its lasagne?" Charles frowned with a twinkle in his eye.

"You know full well she always makes lasagne when they come back from Lake Garda," Molly laughed as Charles smirked as he opened the front door and walked in.

The place hadn't changed was Molly's first thought as she stepped inside and took her coat off.

"Charles is that you?" came his father's booming voice.

"Yes," Charles smiled back.

"We are in the kitchen dear," his mum yelled out "You timed that well, I am just about to lift the lasagne out of the oven!"

Both Charles and Molly quietly giggled as he led the way into the kitchen, Molly a few discreet steps behind as they had planned.

Charles walked in just as Linda James opened the oven door and lifted out the lasagne.

"I hope you don't mind but I brought someone for dinner," he said carefully watching his mother.

"Oh, you brought Sam, excellent," his father beamed.

"No actually it's not Sam," Charles smiled as he reached and grabbed the spare oven glove and took the lasagne from his mother's hands.

At that moment Molly walked into the room and all Charles could hear was an ear-piercing scream from his mother whose own pair of oven gloves where thrown in the air in her rush to hug Molly.

"My god Molly!" Tom James "Is it really you?"

"Yes," Molly all but gasped as Linda tightened her embrace. "Save me please," Molly whispered to the two men in the room.

Tom set the wine bottle he had just opened on the counter and walked over to them "Linda the girl needs oxygen," he laughed as Molly stepped out of one tight embrace into another.

Charles smiled "I take it I'm dishing up the dinner then mum?"

OGOGOGOG

Dinner had always been wonderful and in typical Mr and Mrs James fashion they had made Molly feel welcome. They talked, filling Molly in with every bit of Bath gossip over the last years, they may have been curious as to what had happened to Molly over the years, but they never asked. The only thing they did say was that it was wonderful to see a smile on Charles face again. There had been tears when Molly told them about her leg earning Molly another oxygen reducing cuddle from her mother-in-law.

It had been the most perfect evening and when it came to bedtime it felt completely natural for Molly to walk into the same bedroom that she had done all of those years ago. The James family had always made her welcome and that she belonged no matter where she had come from. She smiled as she heard Charles tip toe quietly into his room after keeping his father company while he had a night cap, she felt an overwhelming feeling of love and pride that he could be around alcohol and not have any himself.

"I take it you were left to lock up," Molly smiled as she turned around in bed and faced Charles who was now stripping ready for bed.

"Oh yes," Charles smiled "I forgot how large this place is."

"Are they still intending on passing this place on to you in their will?" Molly asked trying to hide a yawn.

"Yeah. But that's years away," Charles said as he climbed into bed bedside her.

"I love the place you have now."

"We have now," Charles said correcting her

Molly smiled "True. Well when the time comes we can decide on one as a home and one as a weekend holiday home."

"Weekends in the city," Charles mused "Or in the country?"

"Both sound perfect."

"They do," Charles smiled as leant down and kissed her. What started as a gentle kiss quickly intensified and in no time they were gasping for air, "Molly, I am sorry I shouldn't."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Molly smiled back "I think I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Charles asked he had an idea what she was saying but he wanted to be certain.

"Ready for you to love me again," Molly replied smiling softly

"Molly are you sure, I don't want to rush you."

"Oh, for Christ sake Charles I will spell it out to you then," Molly laughed "Will you make love to me you stupid prannet."

OGOGOGOGOG

**Epilogue - Three years later**

"So, what time should we expect everyone?" Molly asked as she linked her arm through Charles as they walked along the now familiar woodland trail.

"Anytime, mum and dad are going to pick Sam up from the train station," Charles explained "Your nan is driving one half of your family down in her car and Bella has the rest in her car. Still can't believe she's driving."

"We should put out a public safety notice advising everyone to stay off the roads for their own safety," Molly laughed as she carefully stepped over a fallen branch.

"Okay?" Charles asked as his hand rested on her lower back. Still after all this time he was as protective of her as ever. At first it got on her nerves and they had a few disagreements on what he felt she could and couldn't do until Molly realised that he was every bit as protective towards her now as he was the first-time round before she had lost her leg. It was just Charles being Charles, her Charles.

"I am perfectly capable of stepping over a branch, thank you," Molly smiled as she turned her attention to Jack who currently rolling in a pile of leaves.

"I don't doubt you are, but I wasn't referring to you Mrs James," Charles smiled back as he looked down between them.

"Of course, you weren't," Molly laughed as she leant down and let go of her daughters' tiny hand and watched as she took a few wobbly steps in front of them.

"Careful Emily," Charles said as he let go of her other hand and watched her walk slowly in front of them.

"Wriggly little worm, I'm surprised she held my hand as long as she did," Molly smiled at Jack as he walked over to walk alongside Emily, almost as if he were clearing the path and showing them the way.

"Determined like her mother," Charles laughed as they both stopped walking and watched as their eighteen-month-old daughter, born via a surrogate toddled on in front of them. She stopped looked at a leaf on the path, babbled something then continued walking. She repeated this with every leaf she saw to the amusement of her parents.

Emily stopped suddenly to point at a red leaf that had caught her attention then toddled off at speed until she slipped and fell on her backside. Molly and Charles looked at each other for a split second before they heard their daughter giggling. There was Emily sitting giggling and throwing a pile of leaves in the air.

"She is a nutter," Molly laughed as Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

They watched as Emily crawled a few steps until she stood with her bum up in the air before standing up straight, wiped her mucky hands down on brand new white coat and continued on looking at the leaves.

"Just like her mother," Charles laughed as Molly playfully hit him. "No matter what happens she picks herself up, dusts herself down and carries on with the task at hand."

Molly was about to reply when she heard the sound of a car approaching and Charles stepped forward and playfully lifted Emily in the air to the little girl's amusement.

"Am!" Emily screeched when she saw her big brother.

"Mum, dad and Sam have arrived!" Charles laughed as Molly caught up with him

"Happy Birthday Molly!" Linda yelled walking over to meet them and hug her daughter – in law as Sam ran over and started playing with Emily who wanted to be in her big brothers' arms.

"And so, the birthday party begins!" Charles laughed as he watched his wife and mother embrace and Sam playing aeroplanes with his little sister. He had originally planned a surprise party for Molly, but he knew that she now hated surprises.

The last three years had been wonderful, at times he often thought it was all too good to be true. He and Molly had renewed their wedding vows three months later at New Year at the family house in Lake Garda. It was on their second honeymoon they finally decided to try for a baby via surrogacy and they got very lucky, very quickly. Emily really was their miracle baby. She was loved and spoiled by everyone.

Charles was still working as a trainer at the private security company but now instead of going overseas he remained in the UK and continued to work with journalists and security guards in war zones. Molly completed her physiotherapy course, but she still worked with Charles at his company, teaching combat first aid to journalists one day a week and then worked two days at the local health centre as a physiotherapist.

They had been through hell both together and apart. Defining moments had shaped their troubled past, now it was the good ones that shaped their present and future.

**Thank you all for reading!**


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